Qunari Threats & Flirting
by Infinite Carnage
Summary: Varric's history with Qunari has always been shaky at best, but now he finds himself being threatened by his new leader... or is she flirting with him? Follow our loveable Dwarf as he either ends up at the end of the Inquisitor's blade, or in her bed.
1. Chapter 1

**So I've been sort of out of the game as it were. It's been a while since I wrote anything non-fiction at all, but recently I got Dragon Age: Inquisition for christmas and I just can't stop playing it. I came across this little comic made before the game was released and it featured Varric talking to a female Qunari Inquisitor. (It was apparently written by someone called LadyZolstice in 2013 but I've had difficulty finding the source.) It inspired me to write this odd little ship, but also partially because I really think Varric should have been romance option by now. Anyway, please let me know what you think since I'm a bit rusty at this. All criticism is welcome, and I might be tempted to continue this story and see where it goes.**

* * *

The light from the sun danced off the luscious greenery that covered the Hinterlands. The old ruins stood out as the Qunari mage and her short companion walked past the white crumbling structure and down another hill, there was plenty of elfroot about, and the Inquisitor wasted no time in plucking them from the ground. Not ten years prior, the area surrounding Redcliffe village had mostly been mud and dried up grass, but now the blights effects had finally worn away and life had returned to the area. It was beautiful, but Varric mused that it wasn't for him.

_"There are people who actually do this for fun,"_ he scoffed mentally, remembering that some people trekked through the countryside as a hobby. He preferred hard stone, pavement, walls and a roof over his head. Perhaps it was his Dwarven blood that made him feel that way, but he had never felt much sorrow for never living with his people underground. No, he knew what the problem was. He missed Kirkwall, he missed the Hanged Man, he missed his friends, and most of all he missed Hawke.

About now, he would usually be relaxing in the tavern, the sounds of rowdy drunkenness, failed proposals and laughter filling the air. He'd be telling stories of Hawke's grand feats, which rarely needed any embellishment at all. Or, he'd be walking the streets of Kirkwall, all the way from Hightown to Darktown, making conversation with his friends along the way. His current company was less than talkative.

Just more than half a mile back, the Inquisitor had ordered Cassandra and Blackwall to separate from them and deal with a group of Red Templars as her and Varric went on ahead to scout the area. Varric wasn't actually sure why they had come out to the Hinterlands. At most they had collected some resources, and dealt with a few pockets of resistance, but that was about it. Still, he didn't question it as in his own words, too much weird shit was going on for him to care. The one solace he took was that because of the quiet, everything seemed surprisingly normal. However, he craved interaction, conversation, something that felt familiar to him.

Herah Adaar was a cold woman, like hard stone as Varric would put it. From the moment he met the Qunari, Varric knew she would be a difficult woman to read, but even after all this time he still couldn't figure her out. She seemed unmoving, unfeeling. Her facial expressions, or lack thereof, were set to a permanent state of disinterest at everything around her; yet, everything she had done would prove otherwise. She had gone out of her way to help refugees and other civilians with the most menial of tasks, bring food to eat, collecting herbs and other supplies. Varric recalled the time she tracked down a group of Templars who had killed an innocent man just so she could return the ring they stole from his body to his grieving widow. Her body language said one thing, but her actions said another.

Varric had only spoken to her a few times. They were usually questions about red lyrium, or Hawke's past. Thinking about it just made Varric think how unlike Hawke the Inquisitor was. Hawke was charismatic, cocky, and always had a one-liner at the ready, it just made him that much more homesick, but he had made his bed and was determined to sleep in it; he was going to see this through to the end. At this point, he decided to say fuck the consequences and at least try to start a conversation with her.

"So, your Inquisitorialness, you never told me where we're headed." He heard her grunt as she continued to pick up herbs, not even turning to face him.

"Were finishing up in the area," said Herah. "There's meant to be a tear not too far ahead. I want it dealt with now so we can focus elsewhere." Her voice was deep, but there were still feminine tones hidden underneath. She stood up, her red, black and silver outfit shining brightly in the sun. It was easy to see why so many could easily accept her as the herald of Andraste. Despite her obviously not being human, she gave off a regal pose, one that fit her title perfectly.

"Fair enough, only a bare minimum of heroic acts today? I can live with that," Varric chuckled to himself. The Inquisitor remained motionless for a moment, staring up at the sky.

"You must not be used to this?" She said, turning to face the Dwarf.

"Pardon?"

"The outdoors, so much sky. My mercenary company once hired a Dwarf straight from Orzammar. When he got topside, he kept clutching the ground, claiming he'd fall upwards if he'd let go." Varric snickered to himself as he explained.

"Well, actually Inquisitor, I was born on the surface. Kirkwall has always been my home. Have I never told you? I'm the head of my family's merchant guild."

"Haven't you been to the deep roads before? That's where you found the red lyrium isn't it?" As she said that, Herah motioned for Varric to follow as they started to trek forward again.

"Yeah, don't remind me," he grumbled.

Silence fell between them for a moment. Varric stared at the ground, watching each of his footsteps crush the grass below, only for it to rise again as he stepped off of it. He knew he should have been keeping alert, Bianca at the ready to deal damage, but he knew the Inquisitor had that covered. He settled himself ready for a long silence.

"… It isn't your fault you know." Varric looked up at the Inquisitor, confused as to what she was talking about. "I mean the red lyrium. You seem to blame yourself for it being on the surface, but I know for a fact that it makes no sense that one piece would produce all of this."

"Heh, you sure about that? That tiny piece did some pretty weird shit back home." Varric scrunched up his nose at the memory.

"How could it have produced any of the red lyrium at the temple of sacred ashes? That piece had never been there. It is likely that this form of lyrium has been steadily growing for some time, perhaps helped by an outside force, but certainly not you, Varric."

The way she said his name, Varric swore it was sympathetic. More of the woman inside of her rolled out as she said that last word. When his gaze met hers, he could see she still wore her piercing yellow eyes and thin frown. The Dwarf rubbed the back of his head, letting out an insincere laugh to himself.

"Maybe you're right, but I've got to take some responsibility for all of this mess," Varric said through a sigh. He looked forward seeing nothing but trees and hills for miles. He took a small pleasure from the fact that he had managed to get her to speak to him, but now he felt like more of an ass than before. "All we wanted was to make a bit of gold. All Hawke wanted was to keep his sister safe from the Templars…" He reminisced with a sigh.

"Ah, yes, I remember," Herah interrupted. "When you went into the deep roads, she contracted the taint and was made into a grey warden. Not exactly a mercy from what I hear."

Varric went wide eyed, nearly stopping dead in his tracks. He looked up at the inquisitor, trying to see if there was anything different, but as usual she was impossible to read. Puzzled for a moment, he searched through his head for how the Inquisitor could have known that. Then it hit him.

"You've read my book," he said in disbelief.

"Hmm? Yes, the tale of the champion, I've read it. I also read "Hard in Hightown." They were both amusing tales, though the latter disappointed me slightly." Varric didn't care about the criticism, he was still in shock that this marvel of a woman, this no-nonsense, battle hardened spiritual leader had read his stories.

"What was disappointing about my other book?" He said, grasping for any kind of reply in his head, he went for the first thing to pop up.

"From the title, I thought it was smut."

Varric burst out laughing. The sheer absurdity of the scenario had taken over his mind. He clutched his stomach, barely regaining his composure.

"So, the Inquisitor has a dirty side to her?" Varric said, pointing upwards at her. Herah turned her head to look down at him; her eyes squinted with a noticeable frown.

"Is that a problem?" She said with a predatory growl.

"Oh no. Heh, just excuse me as bask in my own smugness."

Herah rolled her eyes as silence fell between the two again. The only sounds that could he heard were the rustling of trees and birds chirping above them. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like the good old days.

"Alright then, Dwarf," said Herah, snapping Varric back to reality. "You're a storyteller. Amuse me then; tell me a story."

Varric rubbed his hands together and a large grin spread on his lips.

"Alright then, Inquisitor, how about this one? Hawke was walking around Hightown one day when he was stopped by a group of armed Antivan's. They asked Hawke, because of his reputation of course, for his help in tracking down this "deadly killer"…"

* * *

Over the next half an hour, Varric regaled the Inquisitor with adventures and jokes as they made their way to the rendezvous point. They arrived in a small clearing, which was perfect for setting up camp. As they waited for Cassandra and Blackwall to return, Varric continued on as the Inquisitor listened patiently. Varric wasn't even sure if Herah was enjoying his tales; his mood was simply too positive to care. Her reactions varied from nods to grunts as she stood there listening to the Dwarf prattle on about anything that came to his mind.

Cassandra and Blackwell were close by as Varric was finishing his final joke. He had the Inquisitor's full attention as he delivered the punchline.

"… So I said, "Oh, but ze Hanged Man ees so filthy!" And Broody just rolls his eyes and sneers, "it IS filthy."" Varric let out a hearty laugh at his own joke, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "It was priceless! You should have seen Hawke's fac-"

As Varric went to finish his sentence, he gazed up at the Inquisitor who was not laughing, but rather, she was wearing a familiar sneer on her face. The Dwarf swallowed the lump that had suddenly welled up in his throat, unsure of what to say next. A single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He nervously tapped his fingers together in order to keep his nerves in check as the much larger woman glared down at him. It was days like these when he cursed his stubby legs.

"… I, ah. Forgive me, Madam Inquisitor, but… I haven't offended, have I?" Varric curled his hands together, and presented the most convincing smile he could muster.

"…"

"…"

"That was a hilarious story," said the Inquisitor with a small smile. She rested her hands on her hips as Cassandra and Blackwall approached. Varric gingerly let down his guard, but raised his hands in a surrendering position when the Inquisitor pointed at him.

"You are a funny Dwarf," she said. Herah then bopped the Dwarf on the nose and then turned to leave. A very confused Varric lowered his arms, and just before the Inquisitor went out of earshot, he heard her say, "I like you."

The Inquisitor spotted some more elfroot and went off to collect it. In the meantime, Varric's face felt a little warm. Although his arms had lowered, he kept the hands pointing upwards as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened. Blackwall walked off to follow Hadar, but Cassandra stepped behind Varric, her arms folded across her chest.

"Varric? Are you well?" Cassandra had not heard what was said between the Dwarf and the Qunari, but it seemed to leave Varric like a statue. "Why are you blushing?"

"Oh, I'm just trying to figure out the difference between Qunari threats and Qunari flirting," Varric managed to get out. "Don't mind me, Seeker."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the favourites and follows on this one guys. I expected maybe one or two, not this many. I would like some more reviews however, so I know what I'm doing right and wrong. Since I'm here and I plan to continue this, I thought I might jot down the current world state for this story. (Note: This is based off an actually world state I created.)**

**DAO: Warden – Feenot Brosca (Dwarf Commoner), Romance – Zevran, rouge (Daggers), Bhelen rules Orzammar, Alistair + Anora rulers, Loghain performed dark ritual, Architect alive.**

**DA2: Hunter Hawke, Romance – Merrill, Diplomatic, Warrior (Sword + Shield), Bethany became a warden, did not give up Isabella (Arishok dead), sided with Templars (Viscount of Kirkwall.)**

**I just thought you'd like a bit more context to the world. I don't know if any of this will be become relevant in the story, but we'll see.**

* * *

The tavern was filled to the brim today. This wasn't an unusual sight in Skyhold, but what was unusual was that nearly the entirety of the Inquisitor's inner circle found themselves in the pub that day. Vivienne and Solas found the tavern to be beneath them, but it certainly didn't stop the others from enjoying themselves.

Iron Bull was surrounded by his chargers, laughing and drinking as they always did when there was no work to be had. Dorian was amusing himself watching his opponent, Sera, try to figure how chess worked. Blackwall and Cole remained quiet, watching the game with intrigue. You'd think finding the Inquisitor in the pub would be an unusual sight, but Herah had made a point to check up on her companions more regularly since the destruction of Haven. She was sitting at the bar with Cassandra. The two had always gotten on well, conversing on battle strategies and their backgrounds. They had mutual respect for one another, and a beautiful friendship had slowly formed over time, despite their rocky introduction.

However, the floorboards creaked and groaned around the largest collection of people in the tavern, all centred on one Dwarf. Varric Tethras was sat on a chair on top of a table. Above him was a lit torch that shone down and enveloped the Dwarf in light. All these people had gathered to listen to the thing that Varric did best; tell stories. Even if the rest of the inner circle didn't look like they were listening, that couldn't have been farther from the truth. Bull had made sure they sat down right next to Varric's crowd, Sera and Dorian followed suit, also allowing Cole and Blackwall to listen in as well. The Inquisitor and Cassandra were right across from the storyteller, more focusing on him than their own conversation.

Sadly, Varric was having a difficult time today. It didn't seem like it to the crowd, as far as they were aware, the Dwarf was on regular form. Varric was good at covering his nerves when he wanted to, years of playing wicked grace and working with other members of the merchants guild taught him this. Still, he was struggling more than usual, and it was starting to piss him off.

It wasn't the other sounds of the tavern; Varric could easily tune that out if he wished. It wasn't how warm it was with all these people in one place. No, his problem came from one woman, or more specifically, one Qunari. Herah Adaar, the Inquisitor. Every time he looked at her, the words that would flow like poetry from his lips came to a screeching halt. His heartbeat quickened as his brain cried out for him to do something, but what that was, Varric just could not tell. Life always seemed so much simpler in stories.

It had been a very difficult couple of weeks since that fateful conversion with Herah in the Hinterlands. Even now, Varric couldn't be sure exactly what the Inquisitor had meant when she said '_I like you.'_ To Varric, it meant one of three things. Coming from a Qunari, it was likely a veiled threat of some kind. From anyone else, it meant exactly how it sounded; she liked him as a friend. But there was one more meaning that could deduced from that phrase.

"_What if she meant…"_ thought Varric, his mind wondering from what he was doing again. "_Shit, did it again."_ Varric cleared his throat, and got on with his story.

Many months before that talk, it had been decided the Inquisition needed to seek aid from either the rebel mages or the Templars. Unsurprisingly, Herah decided to go to the mages, what was surprising was that instead of conscripting the mages and forcing them to work for her, she had offered to be partners. They would work together freely, despite what the mages had done previously. This earned a lot of disapproval from certain members of the Inquisition, but she hadn't cared. Varric remembered exactly what she had said when was confronted back at Haven.

"_You say they had blown their chance, Cullen, when the matter is they had never really been given a proper chance in the first place. This IS their chance. This is their chance to do something good, and show the world that mages aren't just simply something that should be locked away. They are people. Or do you intend to lock me up as well, Captain?"_

Cullen had been nursing his pride for a while after that. Shortly thereafter, the Inquisitor had managed to close the giant hole in the sky, but the celebration didn't last. They had been attacked by an old face that Varric never wanted to see again: Corypheus. Haven was destroyed in the ensuing chaos, but eventually, the Inquisition had moved to Skyhold, named Herah as the Inquisitor and started to rebuild the fortress. Shortly after that was when the fateful day occurred.

"Shit," Varric cursed under his breath. He had stopped talking again, and everyone was staring up at him in anticipation. He found a small comfort in the fact that he had stopped at a particularly crucial moment, making it look like he was building tension, but he knew what the problem was. He had met her eyes again across the room. "_Andraste's tits, what's gotten in to me?"_

"Are you alright, Varric?"

A familiar voice spoke softly behind the storyteller, gently placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. The Dwarf smiled and turned his head to be greeted by large hazelnut eyes. The man behind had a large beard and had fashioned his black hair into cornrows, tied up into a ponytail at the back. He had brown skin, and wore a warm smile that could easily light up a room.

"Yeah, I'm good, Hawke." Varric patted the hand that Hawke had rested on the Dwarf's shoulder, and turned to face his audience. "Show's over folks… for today. Come back tomorrow for the exciting conclusion."

A few groans came from the crowd but they quickly dispersed. Varric got off from the chair and Hawke placed it next to the table they were sat at. The brown décor of the room reminded Hawke and Varric of the Hanged Man, but both of them recognised the place was too clean and tidy for their taste. The two sat close to one another and Hawke placed down a mug of mead for his friend.

"So, Varric. How shall we do this then?" Hawke said while taking a swig.

"Do what, Hawke?"

"Do you plan on creating a grand tale as to cover yourself, or are you actually going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Varric let out a snort as he turned to his drink. He knew Hawke was just concerned, but it wasn't something he felt comfortable talking about, not even to an old friend.

"Oh? The silent treatment? Well that's a new one," Hawke muttered. Varric pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh.

"I'm just not feeling it today, that's all. Don't you have some mages to oppress or something?"

"Well that was a low blow." The two shared a short, awkward laugh to themselves. Varric had yet to take a drink from his mead, and Hawke had noticed. The Champion of Kirkwall's eyes drifted over to his right, and then it struck him.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain someone standing at the bar right now, would it?"

Varric's eyes followed Hawke's till he reached Cassandra. When the group had reached Skyhold, Varric knew he could no longer put off the inevitable. With Corypheus in the mix, he had to contact Hawke straight away. As soon as he arrived, Cassandra had been furious. When Cassandra's glare met his eyes across the room, it brought the memory back to his mind…

* * *

"_You knew where Hawke was all along!"_

_A fire burned in her eyes as she stared down the Dwarf. She was clutching both sides of the v in his jacket, pulling at his skin in the process. Her tone was harsher than usual, and her intent was more than clear to Varric. He wasn't going to leave the room in one piece._

_Where normally he would make a joke or spin a tale to dodge the seeker's wrath, today, Varric was ready for a fight. He had been locked up and interrogated for days by this woman who had offered no apology for her actions. Here she was now, ready to finally get the physical part of the interrogation Varric knew she had not whipped out because he had 'co-operated' with her. This time, he was gonna give her a piece of his mind._

_Varric, with all his strength, pushed his arms forward into Cassandra's shoulders and pushed her off of him. "You're damned right I did!" Varric shouted back at her. He was starting to find his own adrenaline kicking in. His hands balled into fists, waiting to see what the seeker would do next._

"_You conniving little shit!" Varric quickly lost his nerve when the much taller Cassandra geared up to strike a blow at his skull. As she reeled back, Varric quickly saw an opening and as Cassandra flung her fist forward, Varric ducked under it and jogged to the other side of the room and behind a table._

"_You kidnapped me!" He fired straight back. "You interrogated me! What did you expect?"_

_As Cassandra zeroed in on him again, Varric suddenly felt a presence appear beside him._

"_Hey! Enough!" The booming voice of the Inquisitor herself came from the top of the stairs, and she sounded angrier than usual. She marched between the two of them before they could do anything else. Varric was relieved for the distraction, but Cassandra turned to her in shock._

"_You're taking his side?" She said with an almost horrified expression._

"_I said enough!" The Inquisitor responded with finality._

_Varric quickly made his way to the Inquisitor's side, if only to avoid another attack from the woman across from him. Cassandra slinked over to the Qunari's other side. Herah looked at Cassandra; she saw her eyebrows were furrowed and hands balled up, desperately trying to avoid charging at Varric right there and then._

"_We needed someone to lead this Inquisition," Cassandra said more calmly, but her voice was still laced with venom. Although she was talking to Herah, the seeker switched her focus to Varric again. "First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we searched for Hawke, but he was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no." Cassandra then addressed the Dwarf. "It was just you. You kept him from us."_

"_The Inquisition has a leader." Varric motioned to Herah, trying to mount any defence for himself._

"_Hawke would have been at the conclave! If anyone could have saved most holy…"_

_The Inquisitor cut in as she finally said something. "Varric's not responsible for what happened at the Conclave."_

_Varric felt relief wash over him for a moment before returning to the argument. "I was protecting my friend," he said defiantly._

"_Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake." Cassandra said, her venom reaching its peak. Those words stung Varric, more than he thought they ever could. "Even after the conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept him secret."_

"_He's with us now. We're on the same side!" Varric fired back._

"_We all know whose side you're on, Varric. It will never be the Inquisition's."_

"_Attacking him now won't help us, Cassandra," Herah argued._

"_Exactly!" Varric agreed with a smile. The Inquisitor wasn't done when she pointed at the Dwarf._

"_And you better not be keeping anything else from us," she said with a glare of her own._

_Varric let out a small sigh. "I understand," he said glumly._

_Both the Qunari and the Dwarf looked over to Cassandra. The anger on the seekers face had disappeared and now she looked sad. "No, sad wasn't the right word," Varric thought. "She looked tired." Cassandra turned around and walked over to the nearest table. She bent down and rested her arms on it, keeping them crossed as she did so. She was looking at nothing in particular; she may as well have been gazing into space._

"_I must not think of what could have been," she said softly to herself. "We have so much at stake." The venom had been drained from her, and now the seeker felt empty. No rage, no fire, just an empty pit of self-pity. "Go, Varric. Just… go."_

_The Inquisitor looked at Varric and with her head she motioned him to towards the stairs. Varric gave them both a look before heading to the top step. As he reached it, he paused for a moment and then turned to Cassandra who was still gazing off into the distance._

"_You know what I think? If Hawke had been at that temple, he'd be dead too. You people have done enough to him." As he walked downstairs, he heard Cassandra say one last thing in the distance._

"_I… believed him."_

* * *

Believe or not, Varric had later regretted that last sentence. To him, it was like kicking the seeker while she was down. It felt dirty, unnecessary. Suddenly, Varric saw a gloved hand snap its fingers in front of his face. He sharply turned to find Hawke looking at him with a bemused face.

"This is really bothering you, huh?" Hawke said a little quieter so no one could hear.

"It's not who you think it is… well, not completely." Varric looked over to the Inquisitor, who was still conversing with Cassandra. He noticed her large lips, her vivid yellow eyes, the way her white hair weaved around her neck. He wondered why he had only noticed these things now, when they had been there the whole time. Why was he even thinking like this?

"I don't see why you're so bothered about the seeker. I mean, didn't she bring you here? You said something about torture as I recall."

"She isn't that bad. Look, she's been through some rough shit. Yeah, she could have just told me what was going on, but I doubt I would have told her where you were anyway."

Everything went silent between the two for another moment.

"I never said thanks you know," said Hawke.

"Thanks? For what?" Varric raised an eyebrow.

"For keeping where I was a secret. For better or worse, you may have saved my life." Hawke placed his large hand on Varric's shoulder again. "It's good to know you're still looking out for me."

Varric laughed and brushed Hawke's hand off his shoulder. "Shit, Hawke, don't make a Dwarf cry. I'd lose my chest hair from the excess of femininity." The two laughed and drank, enjoying the company that had been long since absent from their lives. The moment was cut short as Varric noticed the inquisitor approaching. She walked in strides, maintaining her confident posture as she reached the table.

"Varric, Champion, I would like a word," she said confidently. Hawke stood up while Varric remained sitting, mug in hand. "I understand that you will be leaving for Crestwood today?" She addressed Hawke.

"Wait, what?" Varric sat up straight when he heard this.

"That's right," confirmed Hawke. "I'll try and find my contact and send word to your scout once I've confirmed he's there. Just so the trip isn't entirely worthless." Hawke turned to his friend. "I'm sorry Varric, I was about to tell you. I'm heading off now so I'll see you both in Crestwood." Hawke nodded at the pair of them and walked out the tavern door, the last thing the Dwarf saw was Hawke's dreads blowing in the wind.

Varric couldn't help but feel put out by the abrupt departure. He knew he'd see Hawke again soon, but it didn't cause the bitter feeling to leave. As he nursed his drink, he heard the chair opposite him move and when he looked up, he saw Herah sit in front of him. She looked at him as she usually did, with not an ounce of emotion, but her voice was softer than usual.

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" She asked him.

Varric shook his head. "No, its fine. We were just catching up. He was about to leave anyway." Herah let out a small 'hmm' in acknowledgment. Varric noticed Hawke's drink was still mostly full, and gently pushed it towards the Inquisitor with a smile. She stared at it for a moment and Varric wondered if he had offended her, but before he could react, she reached out for the mug and took it in her hand.

"Thank you," she said simply and took a swig. Varric could see the skin covering her throat move as she chugged down the drink. She kept it up until the mugs contents were empty and she slammed it down on the table. Varric barely registered what he saw; only being able to blink. The two were silent for a moment before Herah shrugged and said "What? I worked for mercenaries remember? Did you really think I couldn't handle my drink?"

"Well, I've got to admit, you continue to surprise me," Varric admitted with a laugh. "I guess I've got to say, when I look at you; I keep seeing the Herald of Andraste."

"I am the Herald," Herah said cocking her head to the side.

"I mean the symbol. People picture you as this pinnacle of goodness. Chugging contests don't usually fit that ideal." Herah let out a small laugh and a smile reached her lips. Varric witnessed a rare moment of emotion from her. He felt something in his chest, something he had not felt in a long time.

"_I haven't felt that since…"_ Varric's brain was taken back to Herah as she return to her neutral expression.

"So, the reason I wanted to speak with you," she brought up. Varric completely forgot what he was thinking about when those yellow eyes met his own. "There's something bothering you," she addressed bluntly.

"Oh? Do enlighten me," Varric said with a smirk and rested his head on his arm propped up on the table.

"I noticed it when you were telling your story," she said simply. Varric visibly stiffened at this, surprised that the Inquisitor had noticed while no one else had. Herah noted his reaction and continued. "It was those pauses you see. You have this dramatic flair, but the words from your lips didn't sound as smooth as they usually did. It's hard to explain honestly, but when you're spinning your tales, I usually get lost in the world you create. This time though, I did not. Because of those pauses, I thought something might be distracting you."

Varric found himself scratching the back of his head, thinking of something to say. Again, when he looked at her, his words failed to come out like they usually would. He was worried she would figure it out it was because of her, which was the last thing he needed.

"Well, you see…" Varric felt a hand gently hold his own. He was shocked at the Inquisitors soft touch, and it stopped him dead in his tracks. She gently stroked his thumb with hers to relax him, but it did not give the reaction she expected.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," she said. "I just wanted to make sure you were well." She released his hand and Varric cleared his throat.

"Oh I'm fine, you're Inquistorness. No need to worry about little old me," he said with his most convincing smile.

"Excellent," Herah said. "I would like you to accompany us to Crestwood when we leave for it. I know you and Hawke are close and I'd like to bring along someone he knows."

"Of course. I'm happy to help."

The Inquisitor gave the tiniest of smiles as she stood up and looked towards the door. Varric thought that was the end of it, but the Inquisitor turned to him again. "Are you sure you are fine?" A hint of concern sneaked through her voice.

"Relax, Inquisitor, I'll be a hundred percent by the time we leave."

Varric lifted his head to take swig of his mead. He enjoyed the bitter taste as it trickled down his throat, but reality whipped its face around when he lowered his head again to meet Herah's eyes directly. She was leaning on the table with her arms crossed. The pair of them were nose to nose now, gazing at one another. Varric didn't dare move a muscle, too shocked to even register what was happening.

"I always expect you to be at one hundred percent, Varric." Herah had said his name so softly that time, it was barely audible to the Dwarf, but he had certainly picked it up. The Inquisitor then took her finger and bopped him on the nose again. Without another word she stood up, turned around, and strode out of the tavern.

"_Did… what did… did she…"_ Varric was still in shock and his brain could not function after what had happened… again. Thankfully for him, no one had seen what had just occurred. Except for one other Qunari in the tavern. Out of the corner of his eye, Varric could see the Iron Bull looking straight at him with the biggest shit-eating grin he had ever witnessed.


	3. Chapter 3

**(I have no idea how I wrote this chapter so quickly, but don't expect future updates to be so quick.)**

**Well it has to be said, this story has succeeded in getting me back into writing. Whether that's a good or bad thing I'm not sure yet. I do a lot more work now; I guess I just feel a little less pressure honestly. I feel a desire to return to stories I never got to finish now as well. Anyway, thank you for the favourites and follows. It sincerely motivates me to continue. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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The fire crackled and sparked as the Dwarf found himself gazing into it. He picked up his poker and prodded a stray log, knocking it into the bulk of the fire. Varric let out a sigh, feeling positively bored as the wood was being engulfed in flames. He wanted to keep his hands busy and teased the idea of penning something to paper, but he just couldn't find the energy today. He sighed again and cursed under his breath.

He knew what was wrong. It was the same thing that had been bothering him for days now. The Inquisitor was still on his mind. When he thought about it, Varric remembered a quote spoken to him a long time ago. There is nothing more frustrating than not knowing. Varric was experiencing that frustration first hand, but what didn't help was that he was usually so much better at this.

Varric would be lying if he said he hadn't bedded his fair share of women over the years. Even though he felt his heart belonged to only one woman, he knew she was beyond his reach, so he was content with the occasional relief. He knew if anyone like Cassandra had heard him say that out loud he would receive an earful, but he didn't care right now. Most of them were Dwarven women, but he had his fair share of humans and even several elves. That was something he made sure never to bring up in front of Daisy. But… a Qunari? The idea was so absurd to him, especially after all he had seen of the race, but strangely enough, but when he thought Herah, the thought wasn't so unpleasant.

He was aware that the Qunari were more of a religion than a race at this point. He also knew that Herah Adaar did not grow up following the Qun. Still, it was hard not to associate her with the following. She was once asked if she ever had interest joining it but she admitted she had none whatsoever. She was content with where she was in life, wasn't that in some way what the Qun was all about? Iron Bull had just sort of grunted and dropped the subject.

Speaking of the devil, Varric heard heavy footsteps approach him that he knew could only belong to one Qunari, the Iron Bull. Varric turned around to see the grand hall. It was here that the Inquisitor's throne rested, where she would pass judgement on those who were brought to have their fates decided by her. It was the evening now so the torches had been lit and the nobles had retreated to their rooms in the castle. Varric had set up shop here because he liked the atmosphere, and the Inquisitor tended to put on a show when deciding the fates of others. He had his own quarters though for sleeping, he just simply liked to write his stories in this atmosphere.

Bull strode towards Varric with a grin on his face. His arms hung limp and as usual he had opted to not where a shirt despite Josephine's protests. He waved at the Dwarf as he closed the gap between them. "Hey, Varric, mind if we talk?"

"Sure, Tiny, what can I do for ya?" Asked Varric. He motioned for Bull to join him by his desk and the two stood awkwardly beside it. Varric didn't obviously show it, but he knew with Bull's training, he could tell that Varric was uncomfortable. Bull had just returned from a trip with the Inquisitor the other day, and a within minutes of her return she had received a letter from Hawke stating that his contact was still in Crestwood. That meant they would be leaving in the morning. As far as Varric was aware, Cole and Blackwall would also be going on the trip, so why was Bull here?

Varric thought back to that look the giant made after Herah had left him in the tavern. That knowing grin was burned into Varric's memory like a brand he couldn't remove. Seeing Bull here now gave Varric a few ideas of his intentions.

"So, you know the Boss will want you for the mission tomorrow?" Bull had said this after a moment of the two just standing there, not doing anything.

"Oh, sure, but I get the feeling you didn't just come by to give me an update." Varric crossed his arms and looked up at Bull with a tired smile.

"Heh, you catch on quick." Bull looked away for a moment, checking each end of the hall. They were the only two people in the building right now, since the guards were on break. Bull turned back to Varric and said "I've seen the signs."

"This isn't gonna be some conspiracy shit, is it? I get enough of that in my books… and real life now that I think about it."

"No, we both know what we're talking." Bull took another quick look around. "The Boss… she's difficult to read, isn't she? I hate to say this, but you remember me telling you about all that training the Ben-Hasarath receives in order to read people, right?" Varric gave him a curt nod. "Well the thing is, even with all of that, I still can't figure this woman out. Not completely anyway."

Varric put a finger to his chin, stroking the beard he would have if he bothered to grow it out. The conversion hadn't taken the turn he expected, but it was certainly leading somewhere promising. "So, what have you figured out?" He asked.

"She's not as cold as she seems to be. I'm sure you figured that out at least. On the outside, she's like stone. Hard, tough, cold. Inside though, she's something else. There's something soft there, like velvet. It's warm, and lightly trickles out every time she makes a choice. Her actions show exactly who she really is deep down."

Varric did know this to be true, but he allowed Bull to continue without interruption. "I don't know why she doesn't emote facially like most; maybe she's seen too many fights? I've known a couple of guys like that. The way she fights is very aggressive, especially for a mage. She'll actually direct forces towards her, and chip them down as they approach. Get too close, and you meet a fireball or the staffs tip through your eye. Very rarely saw any Vint fight like that, and most didn't last long. Again though, she's like stone. Despite the light armour, she can take a hit and deal twice the damage back at the target."

"Why are you telling me this?" Despite his curiosity being somewhat quenched, Varric wanted Bull to get to the point of all this.

"I know you've met Qunari. 'Real' Qunari. That isn't a shot on the boss; I respect her more than most 'real' Qunari, and certainly mare than any Tal-Vashoth I've ever met…"

"That's mostly because you've smashed their head in before they could even say hello," Varric said with a laugh. Bull wasn't fazed by the morbid joke; he actually let out a chuckle himself.

"My point is that I can't figure out what drives her. The core detail about anyone is what drives them to do what they do. The Tal-Vashoth don't have that, they abandon everything to run like savages and do whatever they please. She isn't like that. Maybe it's cause she grew up here? Maybe because her folks raised her well? I've heard her speak fondly of them. The thing I can't figure out is her fascination with you." Bull pointed directly at Varric, causing the Dwarf to shuffle his feet nervously.

"I've seen how she looks at you, how you've looked at her. I think there might be something there…"

"You've been reading too many books," Varric said dismissively. "She just likes my stories, same as anyone else. You're reading too much into something that isn't there.

For a moment, Varric wondered who he was trying to convince: Iron Bull, or himself. He shook his head and walked around to his desk. Sitting down, he tried to ignore the Qunari and get back to paperwork for the guild that he had been putting off for a while. Bull did not leave though, instead, he knelt down in front of the Dwarf's desk so they were eye level and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Maybe you're right. Perhaps it's all in my head. I wonder though, what if it isn't? What if she has you in her sights?"

Varric stopped scribbling and met Iron Bull's eyes. He sat back and glared slightly, trying to ascertain exactly what the Qunari was implying. "What are you getting at?"

"I can see it now. Your eyes meet. Maybe it's in the tavern, maybe this very hall, but they lock across the room. There's something different this time though. Instead of cold, empty eyes there's a fire, a hunger pointed straight at you. Before you can react, she's grabbed you and dragged you back to her quarters. She practically throws you onto the bed and climbs on top of you so you can't escape. You squirm like a caged animal but it does no good. She smiles at you like a predator would her prey. She glides her hands through your chest hair, enjoying every moment of it. Then she lowers her head to your ear, grabs the v of your jacket and growls your name. Then, she _owns_ you."

Varric felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead as he wondered why his pants suddenly felt so tight. His heartbeat raced to dangerous levels as he dropped the pen and cleared his throat uncomfortably. His brain was dead. So dead in fact the funeral had taken place and they had cremated the body. Whatever he did now was purely on instinct. He nervously tapped the table as Bull slowly stood up and looked down at Varric with a smile.

"But you're probably right," said the Qunari. "She's probably just being friendly. _Real_ friendly. See you later Varric, good luck with tomorrow." Just like that, the Iron Bull turned around and strode back out of the hall.

For a moment, Varric was relieved he was all alone. The relief didn't last long though when he realised exactly what he felt. He wasn't afraid, in a twisted way, he wanted it. What he did know of the Inquisitor so far was that she would never do anything like that… probably. He wasn't sure how he felt that Bull's fantasies were technically non-consensual. Now though, Varric knew. As childish as it sounded, he felt something for the Inquisitor.

He wouldn't call it love, but then again, did he even really know what love was. He had written romances before, but he often felt it was the weakest part of his stories. There was Bianca, but could he call what he felt for her love anymore? It had been a long time, in some ways, he exhibited borderline obsession. He was pretty sure naming an inanimate object after her and treating it like a person wasn't healthy.

There was something about Herah though. He wanted to get to know her more. What made her tick? What made her break out that rare laugh? What caused her to show that priceless smile? The less she reacted made her rare breaks of emotion that much more precious to Varric. Getting her to make any positive emotion, no matter how small, caused his heart to ache. Who was this woman and what in the maker was she doing to him?

Varric's brain was resuscitated from its comatose state and the Dwarf was suddenly aware that he was staring at the table. He chose not to move though out of fear it would knock his mind unconscious again. He snorted, lightly blowing a stray piece of paper on his desk. He sighed and leant over to pick up the offending sheet of white. As he did this, he heard the hall door creek open, followed by footsteps. He sighed again and decided to ignore it. Against his better judgement he started penning a letter he'd been meaning to do, but he suddenly noticed the footsteps were drawing closer and closer.

"_Shit, not now_," was what Varric thought. He'd never thought he'd pass up an opportunity to hear his own voice but there was a first for everything he supposed. He quickened the pace of his writing, hoping to appear really busy, but it didn't deter the person walking. As they walked to the edge of his desk, Varric sighed and said "I'm a little busy right now. Can this wait tomorrow?"

"I see. I'm sorry for disturbing you, Varric." Varric froze. He recognised that monotone voice anywhere, but more importantly though, there was only one person who said his name like that. He looked up to see Herah turning around and without conscious thought he stood up and called out to her.

"Wait a minute," Varric said, his voice betraying how desperate he sounded. Herah turned quickly to face him.

"Is something wrong?" Her voice betrayed her as well, showing more concern than she normally would.

Varric quickly fixed himself in his head, almost demanding his own brain to stop and play nice with him. He took a sharp intake of breath and stepped out from his desk. "Nothing's wrong, I'm just a little tired," Varric said with a forced laugh. "My head just isn't completely with me right now; I just thought you were someone else."

"Is someone giving you trouble?" Herah asked earnestly. A strand of white hair fell out of place and across her face. She blew the follicle threw her lips to knock it back over to no avail. Something about that action made the Dwarf's heartbeat race a little.

"No, just didn't expect company is all." Varric cleared his throat and put on his composure fully. At times he thought he could give the Orlesian court a run for its money with how often he had to put on a mask recently. "I've got a minute if you need something." That time, he genuinely smiled.

"I shall get to the point then," Herah said as she walked straight up to Varric. The Dwarf often forgot how tall she was but maker, she was huge. The sly thought crossed Varric's mind that there was just a lot more woman to love. He grinned at that, but was careful not give too much away. "You and I are both aware of the discourse between you and Cassandra."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Varric said through a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the thought alone could give him a headache at times. "Every time she trains lately I swear she keeps visualising those dummies with my head."

"You don't all have to like each other and maker knows some of you have made that abundantly clear," the Inquisitor remarked with a roll of her eyes. "Still, at the very least I need to know you will all work together when the time comes. So, we need to ease the tension between you two."

The way she talked to him was different now. There was still an authoritative tone laced between her words, but she was also more casual with her language, even if it was slight. Varric mused that if her interest was genuine, maybe she was simply feeling more comfortable around him. The Dwarf couldn't begin to guess if it was true though.

"Alright, I take it you have a plan?" Varric asked with a smirk.

"Perhaps more of a suggestion," the Inquisitor said, smirking back. "Cassandra is waiting for the next issue of "Swords and Shields"."

Varric's brain nearly jumped off a ledge again to its death. He stood there with his arms crossed trying to work out exactly what the Inquisitor said. He repeated it back slowly in his head, but he was certain that he couldn't have misheard her. At the same time though, it seemed totally impossible. Herah didn't seem like the type to make jokes, but at the same time, he was always questioning how much he actually knew about the Qunari.

"I must have heard that wrong," said Varric. "It sounded like you just said that Cassandra read my books."

"She's a pretty big fan, in fact," the Inquisitor replied, barely containing a smile. It was so rare to see this sight. The inquisitor with such a large grin, well, large for her at least, and lasting as long as it had. Varric wasn't sure if he was smiling out of smug satisfaction for finding a fan in Cassandra, or if it was from seeing Herah so happy.

"Are we talking about the same Cassandra?" He asked. "Tall, grumpy seeker? Likes stabbing things?" Varric paused for a second as a realisation came to him. "Wait, did you say the romance serial? She'll be waiting for a while, then. I haven't finished it and I wasn't planning to. That book is easily the worst I've ever written. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink."

Varric felt a little grumpy when he recalled being told how much the story had actually sold. He uncrossed his arms and let them hang loose, feeling more lax in the situation. He could see the strand of hair still bothering Herah who finally pulled it back into place with her hand, only for it to fall down again. His heartbeat quickened once more. She ignored it and returned to the conversation.

"Well, Cassandra seems hooked on it."

"And I thought a hole in the sky was the weirdest thing that could happen. So… you want me to finish writing the latest issue of my worst serial. For Cassandra." The Inquisitor gave him a curt nod. "That's such a terrible idea, I have to do it." The excitement was building in Varric. He hadn't felt like this with one of his stories for so long. "On one condition: I get to be there when give her the book."

The Inquisitor didn't even have to think about it. "You've got a deal." Before Varric could say another word, he felt the nail of the Qunari under his nose. It gently scratched the bridge between his nostrils, and gently lifted his head so he was looking straight at her. The all too familiar feeling was back as her face fixed into a neutral expression. "I'm very grateful for you doing this Varric. _Very_ grateful indeed."

She bopped him on the nose and turned to leave. I will see you in the morning, Varric," she said as she departed. Varric swore she swayed her hips more than usual as she went for the door. The whole way he couldn't take eyes off of her as his mouth was left agape. He knew he had to get some sleep, but Varric found his feet lead him to his desk and he started on the rest of the book. He knew he wouldn't be able to finish tonight, but he could at the very least get started before heading to Crestwood.

In that moment another question came to Varric. Was he really writing this book to see the reaction of the Seeker? Or was he writing it to see Herah happy? This time he knew the answer. As he wrote, he began to whistle a familiar tune. One that he saved for only one dwarf close to him, but now, it was meant for another.


	4. Chapter 4

**First off, thank you again for the reviews, favs and follows. This chapter took a bit longer than others due to school work, but there was really nothing I could do about it. I can't really say when the next update will be as I'm kind of just winging this story, but, we'll see where it goes.**

**I have two recommendations for stories today. First off, a story by ****YellowDancer** **called "The Wrong Man." I like a well thought out what if scenario and this one is genius. What if Anders was the Herald of Andraste? Warning, if you hate Anders you'll hate this story as it does paint him in a sympathetic light, but doesn't go overboard. It does also skip over sections of the game but it's only six chapters so far and I'd definitely recommend it.**

**The other recommendation is a story from KuraNova** **called "Enduring Knight." It's a Cullen x Inquisitor story that reimagines the romance entirely. It's extremely well-paced and is a must read for all romance lovers.**

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If Varric was asked to sum up Crestwood in one word, that word would be, miserable. It wasn't even the rotting dead that soured his mood, but the rain instead. Varric hated rain. His clothes were damp and covered in mud as they trenched through the countryside. It was an experience he had told himself time and again he would just simply have to adjust too, but he just couldn't take too it.

He imagined this place was once quite pretty not long ago, but like all things, time had been unkind. The dark clouds prevented the sun from touching the luscious grass, and what was once a small town was now flooded underwater. Above that was a giant rift that stuck out as a bad omen to the Dwarf. At the very least they could have been moving to a dry place, but unfortunately, the Inquisitor had spotted some elfroot.

"Maker's balls…" Blackwall grumbled to himself, just loud enough for Varric and Cole to hear.

The three of them watched as the Inquisitor attempted to scale a cliff by continuous jumping. It had mixed results. Varric had to admit that she was making surprising progress, but it often felt like she was moving at two-steps forward, one-step backwards. Blackwall continued to look on, occasionally shaking his head at the display. Cole seemed not to care that much as to what was happening and kept his gaze on the rift over the flooded water.

"_Well, at least the view is pleasant,"_ Varric thought with a grin. Climbing up the rock face had left a particular sight open for Varric to look at from below. Although due to his height and often following Herah around anyway, it wasn't as if he hadn't had the opportunity before to take a peek. A part of him was a little concerned though. Whenever he was around the woman, Varric's brain had trouble focusing on anything, but seeing her now in a position that only took one false step to cause serious injury left him unsure of what to do. He considered trying to convince her to come down, but he knew she would just brush him off and keep going anyway. Varric felt useless and it surprised him that he was so bothered by that.

Not that he enjoyed being useless to anyone, and if anyone were to say it too his face he would argue the point as much as possible, it was just that the benefit of being useless was that one didn't attract much attention. Varric was just a businessman and storyteller in the eyes of most. When spies and mercenaries came looking for recruits or help, he often passed under their radar with the assumption he was just another useless Dwarf. His close friends knew his true worth in a fight, but he was content with that. Still, in this situation now, he'd gladly do anything just to be more help to the Inquisitor, no matter what she needed doing.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but we should really consider heading off now to meet the Warden contact!" Blackwall called out to her as loud as he could, and got the Inquisitor to pause where she was.

"I'm nearly there, damn it," she cried back. "Either you get your grey arse up here and help, or you stand there and be quiet. I am getting this root if it kills me." Herah continued her jumping.

Blackwall rubbed his eyes in exasperation. Varric let out a cackle. The relationship between the Warden and the Inquisitor was an interesting one. They were friendly in private, but on the field they often butted heads. Blackwall more than approved of helping people, but he often gripped about all the stops along the way. He sighed heavily as he kept his eyes peeled on the road in case of an ambush.

"Blue skies, fresh air, a perfect day to end this. A good omen maybe?" Varric heard the whispers of Cole beside him. He turned his head to find Cole appear on his right side. After all this time, Varric couldn't say he understood Cole completely or was comfortable with his spontaneous trips into the minds of others, but he liked the kid. He was kind, innocent, and Varric swore that the spirit was becoming more human by the day. "Blackwall and Cassandra are gone now. It's just me and him. Who is this funny little man? What is his goal? There must be something else."

"Wait a minute…" Varric muttered aloud.

"He trots along beside me. I can tell his brain is turning, twisting as he watches me from behind. Does he really just wish to help, or does he have another goal?" Cole rapidly blinked as he looked down at Varric. "She is confused by you. I want to help, but there are too many strings tangled in the way. I don't want to break something."

Varric struggled for a reply. He simply stood there for a moment, trying to gauge how he should respond. In his head he had put two and two together and came up with that day in the Hinterlands, the one permanently burned into his brain. "_She had been suspicious of me?"_ He thought. "_Not too surprising I guess, but what if…"_

"Hey, Kid," the Dwarf said aloud. "Could I ask a favour?"

"Yes."

"Could you say a little more about that day?"

"… He's hurt. He blames himself when there is no need. Now he's smiling though, he's happy. He spins his tales and I feel something warm inside my chest. He's a funny Dwarf. I bop him on the nose and leave before I do anything else. I like funny."

"I got it!" Came a booming voice from the top of the cliff.

Varric felt bitterly disappointed. He needed more. Cole was the best insight he could get into her mind-set, to maybe truly figure her out once and for all. He let out a sigh of frustration as Cole's attention was taken by the Qunari skidding down the cliff. Herah landed with a thud and a satisfied grin on her face. First time she had visibly emoted that day, Varric noted. He assured himself that counting when her lips moved wasn't _too_ weird.

"My lady, may I ask you a question?" Blackwall asked as he re-joined the group.

Herah grunted and she chugged down a health poultice. "You may," she said as she finished.

"It's just… I understand your need for resources, but why didn't you send Cole up the cliff to grab it? He could have simply appeared next to the plant, grabbed it and brought it back."

There was a short pause as Herah glared at Blackwall. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Cole who said "You never asked me too." She then looked down towards Varric with an even harsher glare.

"I swear if you tell anyone about this..."

"Me? Inquisitor, I'm offended you would even think that I…" Before Varric could finish his sentence, Herah knelt down and met his gaze nose to nose.

"Not. A. Word."

"… Understood."

* * *

**Several hours later…**

"… So then the Inquisitor just turns her head to Cole and he said, "You never asked me too"."

Laughter filled the damp cave where the group were resting. It was moments like these when Varric seemed to have been sent by the Maker himself. Despite the damp, cold surroundings, despite the fact that the walking dead were just outside, despite the fact the whole world was seemingly ending, this band of warriors were laughing thanks to Varric. Well, except one.

Herah was staring straight at the storyteller. If looks could kill, she would have burnt two holes straight through Varric's head. Varric took a pleasure from having got under her skin. In his eyes, he was finally turning the tables on her after weeks of manipulation on her part. That was assuming she had actually been manipulating him, but Varric was content with taking this small victory and not questioning it any further.

The group settled in a comfortable silence as they ate. At the cave entrance they had met up with Hawke. Inside, they found the Hero of Riverdane himself, Loghain Mac Tir. Varric knew this man's story very well. In recent years, he had attempted a coup of Ferelden after he saw no way to win the current conflict with their King, leaving Cailan for dead. Loghain had then been defeated at the Landsmeet and his daughter and King Alistair had taken the throne from him. However, instead of death, Loghain found purpose.

Feenot Brosca needed Wardens. She had travelled back to Ostagar and found evidence that suggested Cailan intended to leave Anora and marry Empress Celene, essentially putting Ferelden under Orlesian rule again, but she also discovered that Cailan may well have known the battle would end in defeat and instead of retreating, he stood and fought instead. If he had retreated, many soldiers would have survived. She decided that while his actions since the battle had been morally wrong, she begrudgingly admitted that Loghain may had done the right thing back at Ostagar, and made him a Warden.

It was quite the tale. The farmer turned hero, turned betrayer, turned defender against the Blight. Loghain wasn't as grim as Varric expected. He emitted a sense of camaraderie wherever he went. It was something that would make even his harshest critic take pause. He wasn't a bogeyman or a legendary figure; he was just another hero in a world gone mad. Herah had taken an immediate liking to him, and Blackwall joined the pair on the other side of the campfire as they conversed about their pasts.

Varric was sitting by himself, finishing up his meal of rice and beans. He scooped every last bit, knowing that meals could often be a rarity on the road. He looked over to where Hawke and Cole were speaking. Hawke was wearing his usual smile on his face while cleaning a few droplets of blood off his sword. Varric could overhear some of what Cole was saying to the Champion.

"You feel shame for siding with those your sister hates, but she doesn't hate you. You didn't have a choice. If you sided with the mages they could have killed you and your sister anyway. You protected her and she still loves you." Varric could see Hawke smile sadly as he looked into the fire. Varric had never noticed just how tired the Champion of Kirkwall looked these days. "No, I didn't help, let me-" Hawke put a gentle hand of Cole's shoulder.

"It's alright. I know she loves me-"

"No, you're still upset. It's something else. She walks into to my house and says my name. Her voice betrays her and she sounds like she's about to cry. "You can't save me," she pleads with you, but you lift her chin to meet your gaze and then-"

"Steady on there, Cole," Hawke laughs. Varric mused how Hawke so easily shook off Cole revealing such a personal moment, but then again, that was just the kind of person Hawke was. He knew Cole was trying to help and instead of getting angry, Hawke only had kind words. "Yes, I do miss Merrill, but I'll see her again. I have things to do here first. Thank you for trying to help, Cole."

Hawke squeezed the spirits shoulder in reassurance and stood up. He walked over to Varric and sat down beside him. "Kind of glad Bethany isn't here right now."

"How come?" Asked Varric

"She'd probably be freaking out about Cole. She'd drag me out of this cave and into the rain just to keep our distance." He let out a hallow laugh as he stared up at the roof of the cave.

"I'm sorry about the kid. He's usually better at… whatever he does. He likes to help."

"It's fine. Merrill would probably adore him. She'd be…" Hawke stopped himself and looked into the fire. Varric immediately caught on and opened his mouth to say something. "No, its fine, Varric. It's just… this is the longest I've been without her for some time. It just keeps hitting me every now and then."

"Girl troubles, huh? Well, can't help you there I'm afraid. Having problems with the fairer sex isn't something I'm familiar with."

"Unless they're angry women from Nivara who happen to be looking for me."

"Low-blow, Hawke."

"You started it."

The banter came to a halt when Loghian stood up and addressed the group. "It's settled then. We will return to Skyhold and then plan our next move."

"We should get to sleep, I'll take first watch," Blackwall cut in.

* * *

Varric could not dream. He had often wondered what the experience was actually like, especially since his regular company all could. It had been described to him as wonderful and terrible depending on what kind of dream you had. Daisy once said that dreams often took shape from what was on our mind. From that, he wondered if he would dream about Hawke, or Kirkwall, or Herah? His imagination and his pondering were the closest he would ever achieve, but at least it was something. The one benefit was he didn't have to worry about demon possession every time he closed his eyes.

While Varric was away in the closest thing he could call dreamland, he felt something lightly rock him on the shoulder. The hand that grabbed him was soft and the rocking itself was so gentle it nearly lulled him into a deeper sleep. Thankfully, Varric was a light sleeper and the Dwarf had enough consciousness to grumble out his lips.

"My watch now, huh?" Varric weakly let out. He yawned loudly and slapped his lips together. His eyes blinked wearily as a pale shape formed in front of him.

"She's hurting," it uttered.

"Cole?" Varric asked recognising the voice.

"I can't help. She's upset, embarrassed." Varric got up on his elbow and blinked away his watery eyes till he could see Cole clearly. "I can't help her, but maybe you can."

Varric was still trying to make sense of what was happening. Cole was meant to be on final watch, yet here he was, waking him up. Varric looked over to the others to see they were still asleep. Herah wasn't there, so Varric figured she was on her watch. Cole's wide eyes looked down at Varric expectedly in the dark, waiting for the Dwarf to act.

"Who, kid? Use specifics." Varric furrowed his eyebrows and spoke more harshly, showing his frustration to the spirit.

"Anger hits, feelings of bitterness swell as he finishes the story. If I said anything it would only look worse. How dare he. I told him not to and he went and did it right in front of me."

"… Ah." Even in his exhausted state, Varric knew exactly who Cole was talking about.

"She was meant to have woken you earlier, but she decided to wait it out and wake up Loghain instead."

Varric rubbed the back of his next, realisation settling in like a bad smell. "She's that mad, huh?"

"You have to go to her," Cole said again, even more earnestly than before.

"Kid, if she's that pissed at me, I'm the last person she'll want to speak to. Why don't you do it? This is what you do."

"I can't," Cole said with a sad frown. "I don't think I can help. I'm not the right person to talk to her, it has to be you. You're special to her."

Varric stopped breathing for a moment. He took a sharp intake of breath, letting it stay for a moment as he tried to clear his head. He took in what Cole said and it warmed his heart despite the chilly weather. He laughed almost bitterly, thinking how sappy the warm feeling felt to him, but he didn't truly mind it. He breathed out again and nodded his head.

"Alright, kid, you win. I'll go talk-" Cole had disappeared part way through, and now Varric found himself the only one awake in the cave. With a grunt, he pushed against the floor and walked over to the cave entrance.

He could still hear the pitter-patter of rain outside that grew louder as he winded through the tunnel to the entrance. He turned the last corner and saw a large figure sitting cross legged at the edge of the entrance. If he looked closely, he could see her body move up and down as she breathed.

Varric suddenly found it very hard to move. It was like his feet were suddenly glued to the floor as he desperately wanted to walk forward. His brain was wracked with uncertainty on how to act next. What Varric knew was that she was upset and it was with him. Saying that over in his head made him question why he was here, but, he trusted Cole. He managed unglue his feet and take a couple of steps forward towards Herah.

The Inquisitor heard the steps approaching her and turned her head slightly to see Varric. She sneered and returned her gaze to the falling water. Varric hadn't noticed and sat down beside the Qunari. He sat there for a moment, trying to read her in vain, but he drew a blank. At the least, the sound of rain gave a calming atmosphere which he hoped to use to his advantage.

"Oooooh, Madam, what are zee doing out here in zee cold? It is, as you would say, no place for a bootiful woman, no?"

Herah let out a snort.

"What iz this? Are you frowning?"

"I am not frowning," Herah said flatly.

"Of course you're not," Varric said returning to his normal voice. "That's why your lips are curved downwards."

"This is just my face."

"Nah, your face is normally completely flat. You're a lot cuter when you're upset."

Varric swore he heard Herah growl under her breath. "All my life I've had that shit."

"What shit now?"

"Everyone was always, why aren't you happy, Herah? Why are you always so sad? I can't help how my face looks. Just because I don't smile outwardly doesn't mean I'm not happy." Herah turned her head downwards to look at a small puddle forming at the foot of the cave. She did everything she could not to meet his eyes, she was too angry to talk to him now. "Sorry I forgot to wake you, Varric. I better get some-"

Before she could sit up, Varric grabbed hold of her hand. The action caused the pair of them to pause motionless, neither sure of what to do next. Varric had grabbed her on instinct, and once again, he was completely lost on what he should do next. The Inquisitor told herself she should snatch her hand away and leave him here… but she couldn't. Varric took a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay, what's wrong?" He knew. He absolutely knew what he'd done. If he just came out and said it though, he was worried that it would just convince her to leave him there. If he could get her talking, he might convince her to say.

"Nothing is wrong." Herah shook her head back into gear and stared down the Dwarf. This time, Varric did not falter.

"There is something wrong. This time, I know there is." The Inquisitor's eyes squinted at the dwarf when they suddenly flew open.

"Cole told you."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't matter. I want to help."

"That means you also know exactly _why_ I'm upset."

Silence fell between the two again as the rain continued to pour down. They both became very aware how long Varric had been holding her hand. He reluctantly let go and looked away from the Qunari.

"Yeah, about that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Oh? How else was it meant to come out?"

"Come on, Herah. I tell embarrassing stories about everyone. I didn't do it to single you out and hurt you."

"It isn't just that." Herah sighed loudly and put her hands in her white locks. She grasped at them as she tried to calm herself. Varric sat patiently, only being able to fiddle with his fingers to keep himself still. "I am the Herald of Andraste. I am meant to be the embodiment of perfection and enlightenment, at least, that's what I keep hearing. In front this important contact you belittled me, and now I do not see the respect I see from the others. Without that, how do I rely on him following my orders if need be? How would I get anyone to follow me if they all lost that respect?"

Varric laughed. He couldn't help it, and he knew he really shouldn't, but he still laughed anyway. It wasn't a full-blown laugh, but more of a chuckle. He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned forward in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. Herah arched her eyebrows and nearly stormed off there, but the sudden urge to slap Varric kept her in place.

"Do you mind telling me exactly what is so funny?"

"It's just-" Varric cleared his throat before continuing. "It's just that you think people won't respect you if they don't think you're perfect? I think you've underestimated yourself, Inquisitor."

"Oh for…" Herah sighed before finishing the sentence. "Alright then, the great and wise Varric, tell me what I've so easily missed."

"You're too hooked up on the idea that perfection is all people should see of you, otherwise, they won't give a damn about your orders. It's easy to follow a symbol, but sometimes, we have to remember the person carrying the symbol is a mortal like the rest of us."

"And why is that essential?"

"Because it makes little people, like me, remember that it's okay to make mistakes too."

"…"

"…"

"… You mean little people as in regular citizens, rather than Dwar-"

"Yes, that's what I mean." Varric stood up while Herah remained sitting. They were now eye level as he turned to face her. "While people are following you, they're really following what you represent. Peace. An end to all this shit between mages, Templars and the rifts in the sky." Varric pointed outwards to the large rift still glowing brightly.

"I don't understand your point," Herah pressed.

"Look, when Loghain didn't look at you the way others do, it's not because he doesn't respect. That man is a soldier who's seen a lot in his life. His country has been invaded, he's been forced to fight Darkspawn for a living, and here he is now watching the world go crazy from the rifts in the sky. To him, you're another soldier, but he respects soldiers, and he respects what you represent. He will follow you. We will all follow you. Sometimes though, when we share embarrassing stories about one another, it reminds us that it's okay to keep laughing despite what's going on. You're the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, but you're also one of us. Just another being thrown into this crazy shit called life."

Herah had stopped looking at Varric and gazed over to the rift once more. When she looked at it, she felt the energy in her hand begin to stir. She clenched it, trying to block out the feeling. Her eyes scrunched up as it only grew more and more. She couldn't meet his eyes, for she felt shame. She had been trying too hard to be something she couldn't, and only now did she recognise how impossible the task was.

She felt a smaller hand touch her left one, where the mark was buzzing violently. She looked over at him in shock. She tried to dissuade him by pulling away, but Varric didn't let go. He gently slid his hand inside hers and wrapped his fingers around hers. He looked at her with a smile and she started to relax. Instead of harming Varric, the energy slowly started to settle and before they knew it, her hand was no longer vibrating.

"It's been a while since you've trusted anyone like this, huh?" Varric asked quietly, almost to a whisper.

"… Yes, it has." Herah replied, her breathing becoming shallower. Herah tried to look forward, but she was caught off guard again when Varric placed his finger on her chin and guided her to look at him again.

"Feeling weak sucks, but the best heroes always suffer. Stories have a beginning, middle and an end, and all along them there are problems the heroes have to overcome. Sometimes they succeed and sometimes they fail. What never changes is the best ones never give up. Make all the mistakes you want Inquisitor, but as long as you keep following what you believe in, we won't stop following you."

For a single moment, it felt like they were the only two beings in the entire world. To Herah, it felt like their roles had been reversed. Here she was, feeling helpless before him as she must have made him feel before. He stayed though; he did not leave her like this. She felt relief wash over her, the muscles in her body that had been so tense for so long finally loosened, and she let out a breath. She struggled to maintain her gaze with him as she felt her walls break.

"I can trust you, then?" She breathed.

"I'll be here when you need me," Varric said without a second thought. It felt like he'd been waiting to say that for some time.

"Good. No more games then."

Before Varric could ask her what she meant, Herah leaned forward and their lips crashed together. Her lips were soft, like velvet. The kiss wasn't hungry or forceful; they were more like gentle pecks from a bird. There was a longing though as both of their breathing became more ragged as the kissing continued. Neither was sure how long they had been there before they broke away, but neither really cared at that point. As they parted, they gazed at one another, knowing that whatever was there had changed to something else. Something that scared both of them just a little.

"Will you stay with me for a while?" Asked Herah. "I don't feel like sleeping right now."

"It would be my honour, your Inquisitoralness."

Varric sat down beside Herah, grinning from ear to ear. She whispered for him to tell her a story as Varric leaned on her arm and began to recount one of his favourites. All there was that evening were the two of them, the rain and a giant green hole in the sky.

Cole poked his head from behind a rock and smiled. He then disappeared, vanishing back alongside the others in the cave.


	5. Chapter 5

**Another day, another chapter. The favourites and follows are steadily growing. At this rate, it may become my most successful story on this site. Just to let you guys know that you may have to wait a little while before the next update. I've got filming to do for the rest of the week and likely I'll be playing catch-up the week after. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

It was finally done.

Varric gently stroked the stubble on his chin as he looked over the final chapter once more. The book was awful. It was trashy, cliché filled and possibly the worst thing he had ever written, but it was done. He couldn't help but chuckle as it dawned on him once more exactly what he was about to do. It was all going to be so worth it.

Shortly after returning from Crestwood, the Inquisitor prepared another expedition to the blighted place to deal with several outstanding issues. While the breach had been closed, a fortress taken and Loghain brought to Skyhold in one piece, the Inquisitor wanted to make sure the area was completely safe for the locals and her spy network that had set up shop there. Varric also remembered her muttering something about the mayor being suspicious.

In the meantime, Varric had been left behind and decided that easing the tension between himself and the Seeker should take top priority. It also took his mind off of other things as well. His schedule had been pretty basic. Wake-up, write a chapter, lunch with Hawke and others, target practice, tinker with Bianca, more writing, bed. How mundane it all was came as a surprising relief to Varric, who recently found himself muttering "I'm getting too old for this shit" more times than he'd like to admit.

Now though, he was finished, and it couldn't have happened at a better time either. Varric felt a pair of large hands grab onto his shoulders. They gently started to massage him as a set of lips made contact with his forehead. He raised his head up to meet a pair of yellow eyes. The Inquisitor gave one of her rare smiles as she looked over to the book.

"I'm back," she said in a quiet voice.

"So I've noticed," Varric said through a laugh. He noted that she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she read the open book. "You should probably get some sleep. You look really tired."

"If that was an attempt to get me in your bed, then nice try Tethras. You'll have to work harder to get any of this." Her face returned to her usual expression as she read. "No offense, Varric, but this is pretty trashy, even for my tastes. I'll never understand how Cassandra likes this stuff."

They shared a comfortable silence as Herah continued with her massage. The afternoon light streamed through the small, yet cosy room. More important letters that he couldn't keep at his desk in the hall were placed randomly across the hovel, while Varric's works were neatly stacked on top of one another. His bed was large for a Dwarf, but that just made things more comfortable for him. He had actually been offered more comfortable lodgings before, but he turned them down as he'd already set up shop here now, he'd rather not have to start again. On top of that, there was something about the room that reminded him of home, he just couldn't put his finger on what that was.

"You think she'll like it then?" Varric asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Oh, she'll love it. This is right up her alley." Herah brought down her thumbs to massage his upper back. "In case you were wondering, yes, she came back with us. I assume everything has been fine here since I've been gone."

"I would've thought Ruffles would have met you by the gate. She didn't say anything?"

"I may have passed her… or charged through her," she said, clearing her throat. The image of Josephine's precious yellow dress covered in mud made her cringe. "I'm gonna be hearing about that for the next week."

"Why in the Maker did you do that?"

"Honestly, I wanted to see you first, before anything else got in the way. We haven't exactly had a chance to talk since… you know." She stopped what she was doing and walked around to look down at him. She sat on his desk, just in front of the book so it was out of sight. It was a shame in Varric's mind, as he could have sold the book with the claim it had been touched by Andraste's Herald herself. She looked down at him with her tired eyes and sighed. "I was right about that mayor, by the way. I think I'm gonna enjoy that sentencing."

"First of all, everything has been pretty calm here. It must be one of those once in a blue moon kind of things. And second, what is there to talk about?" Varric asked, ignoring her last statement. "I kissed you, you kissed me back, were practically married in the eyes of the chantry."

"Is that a proposal?"

"Ah, how could I do that to my adoring fans? They'd cry themselves to sleep if they knew I was off the market. Best give them some hope, even if it's for only a little longer." Varric cackled as the Inquisitor shook her head with the tiniest of smiles. "I was being serious by the way, you do look tired. You should get some sleep."

"You finished the book though," she countered, barely suppressing a yawn. "I want to be there when you give it to Cassandra."

"And you will be, but I won't be doing that today. Saying the Seeker is a tough cookie would be an understatement, but even she needs her rest. We'll do it tomorrow, I promise."

"Fine, tomorrow." The Inquisitor stood up, only to lean down and place another kiss on Varric's forehead. She strode off as Varric watched her reach the door, before she stopped and turned to him. "I still want that talk about us, by the way," she said in a flat tone. "I said no more games between us."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that," Varric pointed out. "Mystery adds a little spice to the whole thing."

Herah smiled in response. "Alright then, have it your way. You'll never know when I'm about to pounce, Varric Tethras."

Varric wasn't sure if he should have been scared by that statement, or very excited.

* * *

The next day, Varric had gotten up especially early. He knew Cassandra was an early riser and it was the best chance to catch her alone. Apparently, the Inquisitor had thought along the same lines as she met Varric at his room before he had a chance to wake her.

The two walked side by side down to the courtyard. The walls of Skyhold prevented the early morning sun from engulfing their eyes with sunlight. There were a number of people up, but they were mostly senior servants attending to preparations for the day. They walked down the steps and turned right towards the tavern, but instead of entering, they walked past it and towards the front of the blacksmith where Cassandra had set up her training dummies.

They could see the Nevarran woman putting her less than delicate touch on the unfortunate dummies. She swung ferociously as she threatened to either dislodge them from the ground or smash them to pieces with her sword. Varric actually felt sorry for the inanimate objects, as he still had the sneaky suspicion that Cassandra visualised they were him. It was still tense between the two, and while neither would call themselves friends, they used to be able to at least converse with one another. Varric felt like he was risking his life if he tried that now.

Varric took the lead as the Inquisitor nodded for him to move ahead. She slowed down her pace so Cassandra would see Varric first. The Seeker turned around and did not look pleased to see the Dwarf. Her frown was evident as she narrowed her eyes at him. Varric thanked the Maker that she decided to place her sword down when he approached reaching distance.

"What have you done now?" Asked Cassandra, mistrust laced in her voice.

Varric's nerves would have taken over him right there, but when he felt the Inquisitor stand behind him, he felt a new surge of confidence rush through him. He put on his award winning smile and did what he did best: talk.

"I get it, Seeker. You're still sore after our spat."

"I am not a child, Varric. Do not suggest I am without reason." Her anger was already rising, so Varric raised his arms in peace.

"A peace offering: the next chapter of _Swords and Shields_. I hear you're a fan."

Varric produced said book as Cassandra looked down at it. It took her several moments to process exactly what was going on, but when she did, her head snapped back upwards and looked straight at the Inquisitor.

"This is your doing."

"Oh, yes. Do you really think I'd miss this?" Herah replied with a rare smug grin.

"Well, if you're not interested, you're not interested," Varric cut in as he retracted the book. "Still needs editing, anyhow." The Dwarf started to turn around and walk back towards the castle when he heard a Nevarran accent call out to him.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned to face Cassandra again. Her eyes were wide open and she looked borderline desperate. "You're probably wondering what happens to the Knight-Captain after the last chapter," said Varric.

Cassandra took a sharp intake of breath as she placed her hands over her chest. "Nothing should happen to her. She was falsely accused!"

"Well, it turns out the Guardsman-"

"Don't tell me!"

Just as Varric turned to leave again, Cassandra rushed forward and snatched the book from his hand. She resisted hugging it to her chest as she gazed over the cover. It had the main character, dressed in armour and her long, orange hair blowing in the breeze. She faced away from the Inquisitor and Varric, too embarrassed to look at them at that moment. Varric cleared his throat to get her attention.

"This is the part where you thank the Inquisitor. I don't normally give sneak peeks, after all."

They could see Cassandra dip her head for a moment, before turning around and facing the two of them. "I… thank you," she said that with one of the biggest smiles the Inquisitor had ever seen on her.

"This was everything I'd hoped for," Herah replied, unable to resist the smile that formed on her face as well.

"I know how you feel," Varric added. He gave Herah a wink before turning to leave.

"I wonder if I have time to read the first part?" Cassandra asked herself as she sat down on a nearby stump.

Just before Varric went out of earshot, he turned around and said, "Don't forget to tell all your friends! If you have any." He muttered that last bit to himself. He sighed with a happy smile and said "Completely worth it."

* * *

Varric assumed that it had worked as Cassandra had only glared at him twice today. An all-time personal low for the Seeker. He found himself in the tavern again, as he usually did, and Hawke was beside him, as he usually was. In fact, that was what made today so great, it was normal. No Darkspawn, no rifts, no blood magic, no demons, just the tavern, Hawke, and listening to himself talk.

Varric finally found his storytelling groove again and had just finished regaling the tavern with one of his newest tales. Whenever Herah looked over to him from the bar, instead of distracting Varric and losing his train of thought, she gave the Dwarf new ideas and brand new twists and turns he would have never thought of before. He could feel it in his bones. When he looked at her, he felt inspired. Herah was becoming his muse, just like Bianca before her.

Hawke and Varric chose to enjoy the silence of the now near empty bar as they downed their drinks. The bard was still playing, but the two of them could tell she was just practicing some new songs and seeing how they sounded. Cole was still likely about, but who knew when he'd pop out, and Serah was likely moping about her room at this hour. Cassandra and Herah were by the bar once more, their conversation barely audible to the Human and Dwarf. However, the pair had an unlikely drinking partner today. Opposite them sat Loghain Mac Tir, who was nursing an Orlesian whiskey. The former general had taken one sip and the look of disgust he presented was akin to the time Aveline walked in on Isabela _conversing_ with several of her guard.

"Do either of you two know why we're drinking Orlesian alcohol, when were in Fereldan?" The Hero of Riverdane asked with a grumble.

"I heard the Inquisition received a gift from an Orlesian noble. He brought enough alcohol to get this entire castle drunk three times over. Were kind of working through it." Hawke said with a chuckle.

"I remember when Maric led us to intercept a supply cart for the Chevalier's. In the cart, along with all the weapons and armour, were gallons of the finest Orlesian wines. He declared that we would all drink well that night, but it was so awful, we ended using it to set fire to their camps," Loghain cackled.

Varric had to admit, Loghain had his fair share of great stories himself. Give him enough alcohol and it was hard to get him to stop; not that you would want him too though, as you'd be too engrossed in the tale by then. He was a man who had seen a lot in his time, and he certainly wasn't shy when it came to talking about it.

The three of them would be heading with Herah to the Western Approach tomorrow, so tonight was meant to be for preparations. Instead, the three of them had gone drinking, but it wasn't as rowdy as the Dwarf expected. They returned to their silence as the bard started playing her new song.

Suddenly, they heard the tavern door swing open. It caught the attention of everyone for a moment, but they returned to what they were doing when Iron Bull strolled in. It couldn't have been an emergency as Bull came into the tavern far too often. Varric expected him to walk to the far side of the room and sit down in his usual spot, so he was surprised when the Qunari headed straight for their table. Iron Bull spied a seat next to Loghain and took it, eyeing Varric the whole time.

"So…" said Bull as he leaned forward.

"So…" responded Varric, placing his mug on the table. Hawke and Loghain exchanged a look, not sure if they should still be on the table.

"Did you do it?" Bull asked with a grin.

"Do what?"

"Oh for… how was the sex?" Hawke spluttered on the contents of his mug and Loghain froze. He was definitely not meant to be hearing this.

Varric's jaw nearly unhinged. He could barely hear Cassandra and Herah still talking so he knew they hadn't heard, but it didn't help with the awkwardness of the situation. Varric worked his mouth, hoping for something to come out, but nothing did.

"Don't act like that," Bull continued. "I've seen the way you two have been looking at each other since she came back. Something's changed between you two. Honestly, I'm surprised you're still in one piece. I imagine a night with her would break-"

"We haven't had sex," Varric cut in. Iron Bull looked genuinely shocked, as the other two men at the table looked even more confused, but slightly more intrigued. "Look, we went to the coast, kissed and that was it. We haven't got that far yet."

"Well what the hell are you two waiting for?" Bull argued, getting slightly louder. "You two need to rut and get it over with already, you're both practically leaking sexual tension."

"Wait, what do you even think is between us?" Varric questioned.

Bull paused for a moment, checking things over in his head. Loghain looked for any excuse to leave, but came up with none that would be convincing enough. Hawke would have done the same, but he was reluctant to leave Varric in his now agitated state. Bull chuckled slightly to himself. It all suddenly clicked into place.

"Oh, I see. You're playing for keeps," Bull chuckled again. "Fair enough. I'm a little surprised honestly, I thought it was just about sex between you two."

As Bull said that, he flicked a finger towards the bar. Hawke roughly followed his finger and found it was directed at both Herah and Cassandra. Hawke's face suddenly went white as the pieces began to fit together in his head. He stared down at Varric, wide-eyed in disbelief. Varric looked up at Hawke in utter confusion.

"What?" Asked the Dwarf.

"I-I'm just surprised, Varric," Hawke uttered, his face returning to its natural colour. "Last I knew, the pair of you two could barely stand to be in the same room."

"We weren't that bad," argued Varric, rolling his eyes dramatically. "What can I say? I guess I have a thing for women who can beat the shit out of me."

"With that logic, I'm surprised you never made a move on Aveline," Hawke laughed gleefully. The sheer absurdity of the scenario was finally dawning on him. To him, it was like a story from one of Varric's novels. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm happy for you. It's about time Bianca let off her grip on you," said Hawke as he put an arm around the Dwarf's shoulder.

Varric didn't react immediately. It was like the world slowed down just to give him time to think. _Bianca, have I really moved on?_ Varric mused. _It's been so long._ _Maybe it's kinder if I just let her go_. The second the thought passed through his head, Varric felt guilty. He knew he shouldn't, the two of them hadn't been together for some time. Maybe part of his heart would always belong to her? Perhaps it was something he would just never be able to let go. His hand tightened into a fist as he suddenly felt an irrational anger course through him. He considered finishing his tankard, but decided against it as being drunk and angry was not a good combination. He placed on his best smile and looked at his friend.

"Thanks, Hawke, that means a lot." Hawke recoiled his arm and returned to his drink.

"Who knows? Maybe the Seeker and you will be good for each other," Hawke finished with a slurp of his drink.

"Yeah, maybe we…. What?"

The Iron Bull broke into a fit of laughter as it was Varric's turn to become a ghostly shade of white. Varric nearly knocked his drink on the floor as he spun towards the Champion with his mouth agape. Loghain continued to look confused.

"What the hell, Hawke!?" Varric shouted, garnering a few looks.

"What?" And now it was Hawke's turn to look confused.

"Bull didn't mean the Seeker," Varric said much quieter.

"If I can interrupt," Loghain spoke softly, catching the attention of the others. "Excuse an old man for curiosities sake, but what are you all talking about?" Loghain was rubbing his eyes, exasperated by the whole conversation.

Bull's ears suddenly clocked onto something. He caught the faintest sense of uncertainty in Cassandra's voice, all the way from the bar. Picking up the small fragments, he put them together and made a guess as to where the Seeker was headed. He nudged Loghain's arm to catch his attention.

"You want to know what's going on. Keep your ears trained to the Inquisitor and the Seeker over there."

The four of them all fell silent. Cassandra was fidgeting with her fingers. She did this whenever she was wracked with indecision. It was a habit she detested and she had attempted many times to get rid of it without success. Cassandra wasn't drinking, but rather she was just enjoying Herah's company. The Seeker had hoped it could stay like this, but as a member of the Inquisition, and as a friend, she felt she had to discuss something that might upset Herah.

Herah, on the other hand, was downing her seventh pint in front of the slightly shocked bartender. She signalled him for another and he took the mug without hesitation. She burped into her hand with an odd satisfaction. She hadn't lost her ability to handle her alcohol at the very least. Herah heard Cassandra make a disgusted noise and turned her attention to the Seeker.

"Maker's breath," Cassandra said with a sigh. "It's midday, Inquisitor. Please control yourself."

Herah let out another burp in defiance, keep her frown the entire time. "I'll drink as I please if you don't mind" she said as she poked Cassandra with an elbow. "It takes more than this to even make me tipsy." Herah flashed a grin for more than a microsecond before returning to her neutral expression.

"That may be so, but it couldn't hurt to show a little restraint, would it?" Casandra asked with her thick accent. Herah waved her off with a hand.

At times it felt like they were too similar to Cassandra. They were both women of action, refusing to waste any time when there was work to be done. They were strong, standoffish, adept at combat, and shared a love of romantic literature, though Cassandra's taste often voyaged into the more erotic. If it wasn't for the fact they were two entirely different species, they could have been mistaken for sisters. There was something about that, which gave Cassandra comfort no matter what. She had a leader she could be proud of, a friend turn to whenever she needed, and maybe, just maybe, a sister to treasure.

Herah burped again.

Cassandra rolled her eyes, almost forgetting the point of her worrying. "We need to speak," Cassandra stated, bluntly.

"Is that not what we're doing," Herah replied.

"I need to ask you a question of a… delicate nature." Cassandra shooed the barman away and waited for Herah's response.

"Alright then. Go ahead."

Cassandra began fidgeting with her hands again and tried to stop herself by placing them flat on the bar. She breathed a heavy sigh, cursing herself for placing herself in this position, but she couldn't retreat now.

"We have noticed that you are spending a lot more time around Varric lately."

"Who is "we"?"

"Leliana and myself. The two of you have seemingly become… a lot closer as of late. At times it seems the two of you are almost romantically involved."

"That is because we are romantically involved, as you would put it."

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Herah turned an eye towards Cassandra. The Seeker clenched her jaw as she let the words settle in. Her hands began fidgeting again and Cassandra found that she couldn't meet Herah's gaze.

"I feared you would say that," Cassandra said with a sigh. "Inquisitor, you must know how this looks. Varric may be an Andrastean, but he blasphemes with every breath. I think-"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Cassandra, but I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter," Herah interrupted firmly. She fully turned to the Seeker with a scowl etched on her face. "Who I choose to spend my nights with is no business of yours."

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong," Cassandra grunted. "I just want to know if you know what you're getting into. You are your own woman, and a great one at that, but Varric is… deceiving."

"I thought you'd go easier on him, especially with all the effort he put into your book."

Cassandra ignored the blush that came to her cheeks and pressed on. "I do appreciate it, truly. This matter is unrelated to that though. I thought I could believe him when he told me he did not know where Hawke was. I trusted him. I do not want to see you make the same mistake that I did."

"Is that really it?" Herah asked. She pushed her drink away and fully turned to the Seeker.

"I don't follow."

"It doesn't have anything to do with him being a Dwarf? Or his past?"

"Oh, Maker no." Cassandra laughed a little. "I am not prudish about races. I would not have made you Inquisitor if I was. The fact you were a mage too would have turned most off the idea, but I knew you were what we needed. I have no issue with the fact that Varric is a Dwarf. Truthfully, I am worried for you. I know I shouldn't be, you can look after yourself, but I can't help what I feel though, and I felt I should give my opinion on the matter."

"So, just to clarify," Herah spoke, placing her hand up to stop Cassandra. "You have no real issue with that he's a Dwarf or us actually being together, but rather you're just concerned about the long-term of the relationship."

"… Yes, I suppose that will suffice."

"Well then as your friend, let me assure you there is nothing to worry about. It is early days between me and Varric, and while I'll acknowledge what has been building between us has been a long time coming, I'm old enough to know when something isn't going to work. He isn't just another liar, he's a storyteller, it's his jog to exaggerate stories, and when something is important enough he would tell us. He didn't tell you about Hawke because of personal incentive, that's all."

"Alright, I understand," Cassandra said with a gentle smile. She would go no further in this conversation, partially because Herah would not budge, but also because she knew that her friend was more than capable of handling Varric.

"Good." Herah downed the rest of her mug and stood up. "Come on, I need to practice before tomorrow. You can be my training dummy." Cassandra laughed as she joined Herah and headed out of the tavern.

As soon as they left the bar, all eyes turned to Varric. He was now the centre of attention, but for all the wrong reasons. Hawke was easy to read. He showed confusion, and not because he hadn't figured out whom Varric was now with, but rather, why. Bull was simple too; his glowing smugness was evident, despite not really doing anything at all. Loghain was unreadable, however, he didn't seem angry or distressed at all. It was hard to tell with soldiers.

"I suppose she is attractive, for a Qunari," Loghain murmured, gaining the others attention. "Good for you, Dwarf. However, take some advice from someone who knows. Love and war rarely mix well. Just keep that in mind."

Without another word, the Grey Warden lifted himself off his seat, finished his drink, and walked calmly out of the tavern. Bull, with no explanation, hurried after him. Varric wasn't sure what cord had struck inside the Hero of Riverdane, but whatever it was, it clearly awoke some bad memories. Hawke had remained silent throughout. The two of them didn't say a word to each other, before Hawke broke the uncomfortable silence.

"So, you really do have a thing for ass-kickers, huh?" Hawke put on that smile he always had on, but Varric was unsure if it was genuine or not.

"You're not upset?" Varric asked, unable to look Hawke in the eyes.

"That she's a Qunari? I'm more surprised than anything else. Your business is you're business, Varric. When I said I'm happy you found someone, I meant that."

Not much more was said after that. Hawke excused himself, saying he'd best prepare tomorrow. What the Qunari did to Kirkwall all those years ago, Varric wondered if that resentment was still lodged deep inside his friend. He wasn't sure how long he'd stayed there, unsure exactly what to feel. He felt genuinely happy knowing that Herah intended to see their relationship continue, but the reaction of Hawke left him feeling hollow. When he finally found his way to his bed, he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything else, but, for some reason, the only thing that came to his head were the angry shouts of men with horns, staring down the city of Kirkwall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Have you been able to tell yet that I love Varric? So, I would really appreciate feedback on this chapter to see what you guys think. Did I do what I did here effectively or not? I'm not sure if my insecurities are messing with me or I did bugger up this chapter.**

**Also, I'm genuinely sorry it took this long for this chapter to come out. A lot of school work and lack of motivation were dragging me down. I aim to get the next chapter out quicker.**

* * *

If there was one thing that Varric could say about Skyhold, it would be that it was cold as shit. That was fine with him though, as about right now, he could use a bit of that cold air coursing through him. It chilled him straight to the bone, causing Varric to shiver and make an inaudible noise from his lips. It made him feel alive.

The snowy mountains in front of him seemed to go on forever. Skyhold sat nestled in between giant natural structures, acting as the perfect defence against anyone who sought to attack the fortress. The Dwarf was standing on the battlements, close-by to where Hawke and Loghain were often found standing about, but he was not here for either of them this time. Varric breathed outwards and saw his breath chill on contact with the freezing air. He always enjoyed going outside on winter days and see his breath turn into mist before him. Childish, but even he was allowed to be childish sometimes, when of course, he wasn't being incredibly charming and irresistible (as he would put it.)

With the magnificent sight before him, Varric almost forgot why he was even here in the first place, but alas, that was not to be. Varric jumped slightly at what sounded like a roaring fire. Without hesitation, he ran to the other side of the battlements and saw a mage lighting a campfire with his magic. Other mages were looking on and it seemed to be just practice for them. For once, there were no Templars around to monitor them, but Varric assumed that since there were so few now, it was impossible to monitor the hundreds of mages residing in the castle.

The storyteller wasn't giving that thought much more attention though, as he was much more focused on the fire that they had created. It was small, only really significant for giving a bit of warmth in the early morning cold, but to Varric, for some reason, it looked like a raging inferno. Varric and the colour red weren't exactly on friendly terms right now.

The reason for his self-imposed paranoia was one Qunari that he was unquestionably infatuated with. Varric and Herah had progressed quite nicely the last several weeks. Things had been slightly tense during their excursion to the Western Approach, but when Varric would look into her eyes, for a moment, all his problems evaporated before him. Those hypnotic, yellow eyes were enough to put him in a happy trance, if only for a few seconds. But then he would see the horns, and his vision was filled with nothing but fire. He swore he could hear the screams ringing in his ears again, the smell of embers and ash and blood. The memory was always so vivid that he swore he could feel the heat of the raging fires against his skin, despite the freezing weather.

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and Varric quickly wiped it away, desperately trying to suppress the memory. He suddenly felt like punching the stone in front him, but resisted the temptation and attempted to turn his focus back to the view. His eyes suddenly felt strained as the sight before him felt wrong; that he didn't deserve to view its beauty, for he was subconsciously rejecting another beauty so close to him.

Varric stopped for a moment, calming himself with deep breaths before the visions in his head ceased to be. He thought back to when it had all begun, concentrating on the dream the night before the excursion. In a way, it had been more of exaggerated memory, but it was a memory that would stay with him forever. He recalled the Qunari attack of Kirkwall vividly, the fires that spread always stuck out the most to him. He hadn't shown it, or at least he thought he hadn't, but that moment had always affected him deeply; maybe even more than he realised.

That was Kirkwall; his home. He had been born there, raised there, and he knew how big of a shit hole the place really was, but it didn't change what he felt when he saw Aveline marching her guard around the city, or Anders helping the poor souls of Darktown, or even when Varric looked at Hawke and saw the power he was slowly building for himself. When Varric looked at those things, he felt something stir in him that he would most otherwise ignore: a glimmer of hope. That night had torn that hope to pieces. Varric had watched how easily Kirkwall fell to its knees to such a small invading force, but even with how it all ended, the event had left an impression on the Dwarf that was only now taking effect.

Hawke's mixed reaction to Herah didn't help matters either, especially since the Champion was one of the most opened minded people that Varric knew. He wasn't openly hostile to the Inquisitor, they actually worked together so well that he'd been offered a permanent position, but it was those subtle looks he passed between Varric and Herah, that had left Varric unwilling to bring it up with Hawke again. So despite how Varric and Herah's relationship had bloomed, something ugly was taking root inside of Varric's mind, and he didn't know if he would be able to handle it.

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed on the battlements before he heard footsteps approaching him. Turning a lazy eye towards the sound, Varric felt a warmth fill his chest when he saw exactly who it was. The Inquisitor was making her early morning rounds when she spied her lover peeking over to the horizon. She quickened her pace and placed her hands on Varric's shoulders. Gently, she began to massage them as Varric let out a satisfied hum.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Herah asked mischievously.

"Gee, that line isn't overused," Varric answered sarcastically.

"Says the master of the cliché," Herah fired back.

"Touché." Varric grinned as Herah pressed her lips on his forehead.

His heartbeat quickened, but Varric felt strangely calmer. The memories seemed so distant now as he was thrown into the embrace of the Inquisitor. She continued her message, unaffected by the idea anyone could walk by and see them in their current position. It had become big news around Skyhold that both Herah and Varric were more than just friends, yet what they didn't know was the two had yet to have sex. Despite how intimate Herah had been at the start of the relationship, she was seemingly in no rush to lay with the storyteller just yet. Varric had decided to leave the matter to her on when she was ready, as he was content with just her company at the present time.

Of course, the Inquisition's inner circle had not been shy about giving their thoughts on the budding romance. Vivienne had been the most vocal against the relationship, or perhaps the only one against it. It wasn't personal as she explained it, but she felt it wouldn't look good in the eyes of the rest of the world. Herah hadn't thought her opinion of Vivienne could have gotten any lower, but the knight-enchanter had proved her wrong. Cassandra had warmed up to the idea over time, and even apologised to the two of them. Varric had to write the moment down so he would never risk forgetting it. Solas didn't seem to be bothered by it at all, and simply wished the two of them the best of luck. Iron Bull was still strangely smug despite not doing anything at all, while Sera had burst into a fit of laughter when she found out. She still snickered when she saw the pair even close to one another. Blackwall and Cole had kept to themselves on the matter; Blackwall didn't feel it was any of his business while Cole simply had no feelings on it except they made each other happy. Finally, Dorian had been fawning over Herah more than usual, recommending several romantic novels from his private collection. Varric never understood how those two had become so close, but he didn't question it.

"We need to talk," Herah said in a hushed whisper.

Varric couldn't help but tense up slightly. He took a sharp intake of breath as he let those words settled in. The looming dread those words carried did not bode well for Varric, but he maintained his composure, reasoning with himself that if it was something bad, Herah wouldn't be giving him a massage right now.

"We do? People will think you're keeping me for yourself."

"Who's to say I'm not?" Herah cleared her throat before she allowed herself to become distracted. She wiped away her tiny smile and a neutral expression appeared in its place. "I'm being serious here, Varric. I'm worried about you."

"Worried about me?"

"You seem… distracted. I didn't see you when I woke up."

Varric recalled the previous night. Herah swayed into his room, bringing with her a chilled bottle of Antivan brandy. The pair of them had talked, snuggled and fallen asleep together in bed. Before Herah had awoken though, Varric woke up first and the first thing he saw was her horns, triggering the memories inside his head. He quickly left and found himself on the battlements, leading to their meeting now. Varric scratched at his stubble in thought.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just needed some air."

"Really? I think there's a bit more to all of this."

The Qunari stopped her massage and gently began to turn the Dwarf to face her. Varric felt like a child the way he was handled, but looking up at Herah reminded him why it would not be so healthy to deny her. Varric often forget how tall she was in comparison to a human, but she practically towered over Varric as she squinted her eyes at him. He knew she wouldn't strike him, but the looks she could dish out would be painful enough for him.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" Herah pressed.

Varric gulped down a lump in his throat. His mouth went dry and he found himself working his jaw, trying to find something to say. What could he say? Normally, his best option would be to come clean, but he had no idea how Herah would react if he told her what was _really_ wrong with him. He knew it wasn't her, it was him, and that was what made it worse. He wish he knew for certain that she'd take it the right way, but she was still so damn difficult to read. In the end, the Dwarf could only think of one thing to say.

"There's nothing wrong," he said unconvincingly. "I woke up and the room felt a bit stuffy. I just wanted some space."

Herah let out a frustrated sigh and knelt down. "Fine, I see I won't get any further with you today." She refused to meet his eyes at first; whether that was because of anger or disappointment, Varric couldn't be sure. She soon faced him directly though, and made sure to mask her feelings. "Did you have breakfast?"

"Yeah. Grabbed an apple on the way out."

"Alright, will I be seeing you for lunch?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

A wry smile formed on Varric's face, and it was so infectious that the Qunari found one form on her face as well. Herah leaned forward and gave Varric a light kiss. At least, that was how it started, but as the kiss lingered, Herah's tongue crept forward and snuck it's way into Varric's mouth. Varric did the same, and before they knew it, the pair were making out like they hadn't seen each other in years. She wrapped her arms around his body and Varric wrapped his around her head. The showed no signs of stopping when suddenly they heard the sound of shuffling feet and turned to face the Champion. Hawke stood a few meters away, just at the top of the stairway. He looked tense; as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Hawke, you're up early," Herah stated, showing very little notion to her embarrassment.

"I-ugh…" Hawke stammered out. Herah stood up, leaving Varric switching his gaze towards both the Champion and the Herald. "Y-you know what they say? The early bird… oh maker, I nearly just said that," he muttered under his breath.

It suddenly felt like the entire castle had gone silent all at once. It was so quiet that Varric could here Hawke's breath from two meters away. He could feel his stomach tightening as the silence continued to drag, no one willing to make a move. Hawke and Herah had settled into a staring contest, with Hawke showing a rare moment of bewilderment, and Herah's gaze getting more intense by the second. If Varric knew one thing about his lover, it was that stare. She was reading Hawke, pressuring him. Varric wasn't sure if she figured anything out, but he didn't like the icy steel that had emerged in the Qunari's voice.

"I will see you later, Varric. I'm sure you and Hawke have plenty to talk about." Without missing a beat, Herah knelt down to Varric and gave him another kiss. She prolonged it, turning a yellow eye to Hawke to make sure he was watching and finally broke it off. As she marched off, she left Varric nearly tripping over his own feet in a daze. He kept himself up right by leaning against the wall, wearing a blissful grin on his face. When Herah was out of visual range, Hawke gingerly approached Varric, yet seemed no more eager to talk than he was before.

"So… the mountains are nice? Very…. mountainy." The Champion reached for anything to bring up, and he regretted it almost immediately. He rested his face in his palm, unable to meet Varric in the eye. Varric, to his credit, was doing better with the awkward vibe, but he too found the conversation well very dry. "It was good seeing you, Varric," Hawke muttered as he pushed himself forward. Before he could get very far though, Varric called out to him.

"Hawke, wait!" Hawke spun around on his heel, his head snapping sharply towards the dwarf. "We need to talk."

"Is that not what we were just doing?"

"Listen to me, Hawke. I'm the last dwarf to start lecturing people on avoiding confrontations, but we both know this has been brewing for a while." Varric wasn't sure what had come over him, but he showed no signs of stopping now. "What's your deal with Herah?"

"I dont know what your talking about," Hawke said, putting his hands up in a defensive position. Varric wasn't letting up though.

"Dont lie to me. Ever since that day in the Tavern where you found out, you've been giving both me and Herah looks. I'm not imagining it. I've known you for too long to make a mistake like that. Tell me, Hawke."

In the end, Varric's final sentence came across as if he was pleading to the champion, rather than the aggressive tone he had before. Hunter Hawke found his eyes drawn to the floor as he contemplated what to say next. The two were silent for a moment, the only sounds filling the space were the caws of birds as the distance seemed to be growing between the two friends, despite both men standing perfectly still. Eventually, after Hunter swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, he spoke.

"I meant what I said back there. I wasn't upset or angry at you, I was just surprised at the time. Now? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bothered by it at all." Varric took a sharp intake of breath and closed his eyes before Hawke continued. "Goodness, listen to me. I'm starting to sound like Mother."

"Funny, I don't remember Leandra's voice being so gruff," Varric smirked, unable to resist the obvious joke despite the circumstances.

"I love my Mother, but she wasn't always the most open-minded person," Hawke grimaced. "She wasn't exactly supportive when I told her about Merille." Varric's eyes widened in shock.

"You never told me about that."

"I knew she would come around eventually. Even if she didn't, it wouldn't have stopped me telling Merille how I felt. Now though, I can't help but feel like her… at least, I think this is how she felt."

"Feel like what!?" Varric raised his voice at the end, causing Hawke to flinch and turn away towards the mountains. He walked up to the edge and looked out to the neverending expanse of giant natural structures.

"When I look at Herah, I see someone stronger than me. I see a powerful, regal figure. Someone born to be a leader. I respect her Varric, dont mistake that. I actually like her, truly. When I see you two together though, I struggle to see straight. I see…"

"What do you see Hawke?" Varric asked, barely a whisper.

"I see fire. I hear screams and war cries. I dont know why, but I always think about THAT day."

Varric didn't need to hear anymore. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to rant and tell Hawke off, but he'd be a hypocrite for it. He had seen the same thing more times than he'd care to think about. His stomach churned, and the familiar feeling of bile rising up his throat struck Varric suddenly. He resisted the sudden urge to vomit and joined Hawke over by the wall. Again, as if it had developed it's own particular sound, silence at Skyhold reigned. The two simply looked at the snowy peaks for several minutes before Hawke dared to speak again.

"It's always when it's you. I guess when I think about it, I haven't seen a Qunari, and I mean a proper Qunari, since I came to Skyhold. I haven't felt like this since I saw you two together, and now it feels like a poison trying to consume me. I get stunned, a little angry, and I just don't know what to do with myself. Maybe I do have a prejudice. I spent so long trying to stop a shitstorm brewing because of the Qunari, and in the end there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I-"

"Hawke, stop," Varric breathed out weakly. "I get it. Just… she's the first goo-great thing to happen to me in so long. I can't-" Varric stopped for a moment, working his jaw before finally speaking. "Where do we stand?"

"I-I don't know," Hawke shakily replied. "I think we both need some time to think. I'll tell you one thing, Varric." Hawke lightly touched Varric's shoulders and turned him towards him. "You're always gonna be my friend. I'm not gonna lose you because of this."

"You've gone soft, Hawke," Varric said with a smirk.

"Wasn't I always?" Hawke smiled for a moment, but it vanished as he turned around and departed. He quickened his pace to his usual spot, where Loghain would likely be waiting. Varric was left on top of the battlement all alone, and when earlier he desired his space, he now craved company. Anyone to fill the suffocating silence that had became all too familiar as of late. He sighed heavily and turned to face the mountains once more.

What could be said? What could be done? Should he do anything at all? The Qunari invasion of Kirkwall had affected both men in ways they could not have predicted, and it's effects had only now emerged all these years later. Varric knew one thing for sure. If he is unable to let go of the memories whenever he looked at Herah, then maybe they had no future at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! I have a new poll up on my profile page. It's about future Dragon Age stories that I might do and I would really appreciate if you could vote on what you would like to see next. You pick up to three stories that you would like to see. Thank you.**

Varric hated Orlais. For a while he had debated with himself whether he really did detest the country, or he simply needed to warm up to it. He reasoned with himself that there must have been some reason all these people would tolerate living here. But no, tonight he knew for certain, he hated the country.

For most people, the idea of attending the Winter Palace among royalty would be a dream come true. To Varric, the place reminded him too much of the merchants guild. A stuffy air of superiority, people telling lies with every second breath, everyone trying to show how successful they were. The one advantage to this was that he was used to it. He knew how to handle himself among this kind of crowd, but with that said, he felt no desire to even bother. It was mostly Bartrand's job to mingle while Varric would scope the crowd and test how many drinks he could handle before he started seeing double.

Varric decided to remain in the gardens, standing off to the side so he could keep an eye on the crowds. At the very least the view was pleasant. It was well into the evening when the ball had gotten underway and the moon was the area's main source of light which gave the place a soft and calming feel. The bushes were neatly trimmed and there was more marble on the ground than grass, making the place more of a patio than a garden.

_Just like Orlais. They can't even say a place is patio without twisting the truth,_ Varric thought with a grumble.

While he was busy loathing in his self-misery, Varric hadn't noticed the young lady who had spotted him from across the way. She let out a tiny gasp, lightly picked up the ends of her dress and made a quick pace towards him. It took the woman to stand right in front of him before Varric acknowledged her.

"Excuse me," she spoke with a thick, yet petite Orlesian accent. "But are you Varric Tethras?"

"Why yes I am," Varric replied, maintaining his cool. "And what can I do for you?"

"I knew it!" The Lady exclaimed with excitement. Despite the mask she wore, Varric could see her wide grin as she nearly hopped for joy. "Master Tethras, words cannot describe how much I enjoy your stories. My favourite by far is _Hard in Hightown_. It's the gem in my library."

Varric frowned for a moment. He was in Orlais. His publisher insisted his books never sold very well here, yet in the Winter Palace of all places he had found a fan of his work. His frown quickly became a smug smile, almost scoffing at the absurd chances of this occurrence.

"It's always nice to meet a fan," Varric hummed.

"Since I have you here, I must know if you are planning a-"

"There you are, Ninette." A man wearing a yellow outfit and a mask that completely covered his face interrupted the pair. He had his hands placed behind his back and his chest puffed out with pride. He eyed the girl directly, not even sparing a glance towards Varric. "You must stop wondering off as you please. As a member of the Council of Heralds, you have a very-"

"Gerald, do you know who this is?" Ninette quickly interrupted. The man in question finally looked down at Varric, but only for a moment.

"No, who is he then?"

"This is Varric Tethras!"

"Truly?" Now Gerald gave the dwarf his full attention. He wasn't the only one though. More people came to investigate the commotion, nearly all of them recognising him or knew him by name. He had attracted a crowd, and it took every fiber of his being not to get cranky and try to escape. Some were asking for autographs, others were questioning him on future stories, and one man was actually critiquing him on continuity errors in _Hard in Hightown_.

During this tirade of questions, Varric had one of his own in mind. How the hell had all these people read his books? These weren't just random Orlesian citizens either, half of these people were on the Council of Heralds. However, just before things got too far out of hand, Varric's savior rounded the corner.

She strutted forward like she owned the place, causing everyone to take notice of her. Never mind the fact she was one of the Qunari in the palace this evening. Her typical regal manner was on full display, matched with her stylish red uniform that seemed made for her, despite the rest of the Inquisition wearing the same suit. As she approached Varric, the other people around him muttered excuses to leave, or split off into smaller groups just off to the side. Whether it was out of fear or respect or a little both, Varric couldn't be sure.

"Having fun your Inquisitorness?" Varric asked with a relieved smile. "I always enjoy canapés while surrounded by people who want to kill me."

"Varric," Herah simply replied as she glared down at him. The subtle warmth in her voice that she shared only with him was not here tonight. Varric would normally explain it away that she was simply at an important function and had to maintain her appearance of a regal, if not slightly scary Inquisitor. The warmth had been missing for several days though. The love was still there, but Herah had not been the same since Varric's fateful conversation with Hawke.

It was subtle, just like her, but she had been keeping a closer eye than usual on Varric, and she had been giving the stink-eye something awful to the Champion. Speaking of which, Hawke had decided not to attend this evening, saying it wasn't for him and the Inquisition already had more than enough people attending. In reality, Hawke wasn't sure what the reaction would be for the murderer of Duke Prosper, and he didn't want to find out.

"What's happening? Anything I should know about?" Drilled the inquisitor. He wasn't sure if he saw stress rear its ugly head, but Herah looked ready to punch the next thing that moved.

"To be honest, I haven't seen much," Varric admitted. "But you wouldn't expect anything to happen out in the open. Everyone is on edge, and it's not just that they're worried about the war."

Herah exhaled and and her eyes drifted down to the ground. She stayed like that for a moment before looking up again. The steely edge in her eyes had dulled and her mouth had morphed slightly into a frown. Concern welled up in Varric almost immediately, but before he could say or do anything, Herah turned towards the small crowd still present that was now conversing amongst themselves. When she looked back at him, her frown had switched into a tiny smile.

"I knew you were somewhat famous, but not to justify your own fanclub. You have plenty of admirers… and maybe some competition." Since her last sentence wasn't followed by a growl, Varric assumed Herah was joking.

"I didn't know my books sold so well in Orlais," he replied through his teeth. "I'm going to have a _chat_ with publisher."

"You're not having fun, Varric?" Herah asked while Varric was able to detect amusement in her voice.

"My Brother used to throw galas like this in Kirkwall. I always tried to avoid them. I'm not much of a dancer these days."

Herah's tiny smile became a thin line on her face as she looked down at Varric. Her eyes no longer meeting his again.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

"No, I… I was going to ask… forget it. It doesn't matter. We can chat later. Just wait for my signal."

Herah turned and departed before the dwarf even had a chance to respond. As the crowd of people suddenly felt like talking to the storyteller again, Varric couldn't help but feel he had said the worst thing possible.

* * *

Varric felt the wind get knocked out of him as he stepped into the ballroom. He had to admit that the place was gorgeous. The room was painted gold and had blue trimmed curtains. Intricate designs were carved into the roof and a mighty chandelier was the centerpiece of the room. Varric trotted inside quickly so as to not stick out more than he already did. Even though he was only on lookout duty tonight, he had grown tired of standing around the same spot for hours on end. He decided to take matters into his own hand and see if Leliana had anything for him to do.

He was not surprised to see the Inquisitors Advisor's mingling with the crowd. He could see all three of them watching the other attendees closely, except for Cullen who had more people watching him. Everyone else's attention was directed at the dancefloor. Curious, Varric waltzed over to have a look at what had enraptured so many people.

It seemed so obvious and mundane at first; the highest and most privileged of Orlais were dancing with one another. The music was in full swing and it seemed that he had caught them right in the middle of a synchronised routine. Varric did know for a fact though that this was a very traditional sequence that nearly all the upper class of the country knew, so it was no surprise that everyone was so in sync.

Then he saw her.

Herah was right on the centre of the dancefloor with the host of the evening, Duchess Florianne. It was hard to miss her as she was the only non-human on the floor. Varric then realised that people weren't here just for the dancers, they were looking specifically at the Inquisitor. They were judging her, measuring her, and from the glances and murmurs he heard from the elite of Orlais, they liked what they saw.

The other dancers began to drift away and the Duchess and the Inquisitor were soon the only ones left dancing. Varric could see they were talking to one another, but they were moving so fast that he couldn't make out what they were saying. They were closer than Varric would have liked though. He could she Florianne pressing up against the Qunari as the waltzed and the eyes she gave Herah were more than obvious to anyone. Varric squeezed his hands into fists as he felt something ugly stir in him.

"_Why isn't that me?"_ Varric thought.

He suddenly realised that his breathing had become heavier, and he found his eyes turn away as the routine came to end. Everyone was applauding as Florianne and Herah too their leave, but Varric didn't stick around to see the end of their performance. He sped out of the room, suddenly desiring to be back at his spot more than ever.

* * *

Thankfully, the night had taken a turn for the better. The civil war was now over. Gaspard had been imprisoned and would soon be executed, Empress Celene and Briala had reconciled and together they would continue to rule Orlais, and Florianne's assassination plot had been foiled and she was jailed as well. Varric took more pleasure in that last part than maybe he should have.

Varric stood still for a moment, judging how best to proceed. Before him he could see Herah leaning over the stone balcony that looked out towards the palace grounds. Beside her was a woman in a scarlet red dress that Varric had never seen before. She was slim and had tied up black hair that fell freely across her face. Herah had rushed out of the ballroom as soon as peace had been declared and no one had dared approach her until this woman came along.

Before he could change his mind and turn around, the unknown woman began to turn and leave. Varric knowing it was now or never, tried to pass the lady without seeming to nervous, but as they passed each other at the entrance way, he couldn't help but take a quick glance as she strutted away. He had a sinking feeling that it wasn't the last he would see of her. With no more obstacles than his own cowardice, he turned back to Herah and walked towards her.

"A little nightingale was tweeting a racket about how the Inquisitor had just vanished from the party. A rare moment when Leliana doesn't know where someone is," Varric said with a grin. He spoke the words surprisingly easily for someone so nervous and he could see the beginnings of smile reach Herah's lips. "So before she sends someone to hunt you down, how are you holding up?"

"It's been a long day," she murmured in reply. Her tiredness was no longer in doubt to Varric.

"I won't argue with you there. Still, it wasn't all for nothing," Varric said as he motioned out over the balcony. "The country of Orlais now owes its future to you. No one can deny the Inquisition is one of the most powerful forces in the world. I think I've said this before, but you've changed things, and I think for the better."

"No, we've changed things. All of us," Herah retorted with confidence. "I dont think I would have made it this far without all of you."

Right there, Varric could feel that familiar warmth that was just for him. He wanted to keep that feeling for as long as he could; he never wanted to let it go. However, he felt that he could no longer delay the inevitable. Perhaps tonight wasn't the best time to talk about this, but he felt that if he didn't say it now, he may never regain the courage to talk about it.

"We need to talk," Varric muttered just loud enough for Herah to hear.

"We do? People will think you're keeping me for yourself."

"Who's to say I'm not?" Seeing the conversation was taking a wrong turn, Varric steered it back into place. "It's about what we talked about before, the whole thing about you being worried about me, remember? Well, maybe there was something wrong…"

"No! Really?" Herah mocked with fake shock. "I would have never guessed there was actually something wrong. I was just saying that for conversations sake."

Varric would have normally laughed, or at least exaggerated annoyance at what she was saying. Not this time though. There was a little voice in the back in his mind telling him he could still back out now, that he didn't have to risk losing her over something so silly like the truth. Just a little white lie could make all his problems vanish without another thought. He was tired of it though, he was tired of lying to her, and for good or ill she was about to find out.

"You said you read my books. Specifically the Tale of the Champion?"

"Yes, I did. What of it?"

"Do you remember the part about the Qunari invasion? When at the end, Hawke was named the Champion of Kirkwall?" Varric had kept his eyes off Herah, and locked onto the grounds below throughout his sentence.

"I do actually," replied Herah, who was doing the same. "I remember you were quite graphic about it as well. It sounded quite… destructive."

"I dont know why it keeps coming back to me lately, like a bad itch I can't get rid of no matter how much I scratch. But it always comes back to me when… I look at your horns."

The silence that followed was deafening. The distant sounds of cheers and partying were muted as neither Varric nor Herah said another word for what felt like hours, but in reality was only several minutes. The dwarf took a sharp intake of breath and he noticed that the qunari beside him was clutching the balcony tighter than she should.

"It starts small. I can hear tiny screams and chanting, but then I start to see fire everywhere. I can smell the smoke and ash and even drops of blood. The longer I stay, the more it-"

"How long?" She interrupted.

"Huh?"

"How long has this been happening to you?" Herah pressed, keeping her face as emotionless as possible.

"A little bit after we got together."

"What caused you to say this now? Why tonight of all nights?

"... Shit, this is gonna sound bad, but I guess I got jealous." Herah finally broke the staring contest and looked at Varric with an arched eyebrow.

"You got jealous?"

"I saw you dancing with our host for the evening," Varric said through a sigh. He rubbed his eyes as he would so often do in times of stress. He miraculously found the reserves within himself to continue. "When I saw you two together like that, I couldn't stick around and left with a bad taste in my mouth. Then I began wondering why that would bother me so much with these flashbacks buzzing around everytime I look at you."

"What are you saying Varric?"

"I'm saying that I'll endure this crap sticking to my brain as long as I can stick with you. I'm saying that whatever is happening to me right now isn't gonna stop me from being with you. I love you."

It had only then occurred to both of them at that moment, that it was the first time either of them had said those three little words to each other. Herah was left stunned by the confession, finding her legs had gone wobbly and was struggling to stand, she rested herself on the hard stone to keep her balance. Varric was on a roll though and showed no signs of stopping.

"I dont care what happened in the past. That wasn't your fault, and I won't let that crap take you away from me. I'm not gonna lose anybody else-"

Herah lunged forward and knocked Varric over as she pressed their lips together. She kept her palms out so she wouldn't crush him, but the only thing that Varric was able to register was the sweet taste of her lipstick. Though they had kissed before, the passion was different here. Instead of a fire, Varric felt something gentle and delicate, something that might break if anything dared to ruin the moment of its perfection. The kiss wasn't for very long as Herah knew someone could come by at any second, but she hoped it might be enough to give some relief to the pressure on Varric's mind. As she got off of him, Varric grinned in a daze.

"So, were good?"

"You figured that out by yourself?" Herah asked, returning his smile. "I know it must have been a difficult time for you to see what happened to Kirkwall, and it's no surprise it's had an effect on you, but the fact you still want to be with me despite what's happening to you speaks more for your character than you think. I love you too, Varric."

His editor would give him a scolding for writing something so mushy, but he felt like his heart was going to swell up and burst with joy after hearing those words. He cleared his throat and dusted himself off, knowing he had one thing left to do.

"So, before we have to inevitably return to the party…" Varric bowed slightly and extended a hand to Herah. "Would you do me the honor of having this dance?"

"I thought you weren't much of a dancer these days," she answered with a coy smile, but took his hand regardless. As they started the steps of a simple Waltz, Varric got one more line in.

"For you my dear, I'd even brave going to Orzammar."


	8. Chapter 8

**So big shocker, I finally continued this story. That's a bigger twist that anything I could write in this chapter. Basically, things got really bad for me. I had to leave my home and take a student accommodation and try and settle someplace safe. Now things are better, I feel better, and the story continues. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and leave a review. **

**Also, this will be your last chance to vote in the poll for the next Dragon Age story. You can find it at the top of my fanfiction page and you can vote up to three different stories. I do hope you vote as this will decide what I do next. Once the next chapter is finished, I will be taking it down and posting the results.**

**\- Infinite**

* * *

Stop me if you've heard this before. In a tavern that is nestled in the corner of Skyhold, many of its inhabitants were spending the final few hours of their day having a nice cold drink. Drills had been marched, battles had been fought, both real and practice, and some had even spent all day standing in the same spot. From the kitchen staff to the lowest guard to Sutherland Company to the Inquisitor herself, they were all in the pub this day; and they were all centred on one dwarf.

Iron Bull and his chargers had positioned themselves close by so they could hear every word. Sera, who was now being taught checkers after chess had proved too difficult, had positioned her chair for the same reason as Bull, and Dorian had certainly made no complaints. Blackwall and Cole were beside one another again. The Grey Warden had warmed up to the spirit over time and was more at ease with the young man's (?) presence, despite Cole seemingly becoming more emotionless in recent days. And lastly, there was the Inquisitor and Cassandra, who were both sitting by the bar listening to the story unfold.

Of course, behind every story is a storyteller, and Varric Tethras was one of the best around. Gone were the days of distractions from a simple glance; Varric was back in the game and knocking out chapters left to right. His audience were totally enraptured as he reached the finale, the words springing from his voice like a fountain of gold. He was greeted with cheers and applause as he put on his best humble expression and excused himself off of his chair.

"Well no one can accuse you of not being able to work a crowd." As the noise died down, Varric turned to find the source of the familiar voice and found Hawke right behind him.

To Varric, Hawke seemed surprisingly at peace. While he could feel Herah's eyes on him, and he suspected Hawke did as well, everyone else had turned their attention to other matters; such as drinking and laughing. It was then that Varric noticed something different: Hawke was smiling. It wasn't a forced smile like he had seen before, but rather a genuine one that graced his friends face.

"Can we talk?" Hawke asked as he motioned towards the tavern door.

"Sure." Normally Varric would have answered with a joke, but he suddenly felt his mood become a much more serious one. As the two walked out of the tavern, Herah's gaze didn't leave Varric for a second.

* * *

Hawke had taken his friend to Skyhold's garden. Neither man had said a word to each other during this time, but Varric had wanted to ask more than once where they were going. Now they were here, Varric was even more confused.

"I've noticed there's rarely anyone here at night," Hawke answered before Varric had a chance to say anything. "Honestly, i just wanted to do this where we could be alone."

It made sense in Varric's mind. The guards patrolled most of the entrances and corridors of Skyhold at night, but since there was no way to enter the garden from the outside, there was little point in patrolling the area. Plus, at night, the garden was barely visible so no one could admire it's beauty, so there was little reason for anyone to be here. What Varric didn't understand was what was so important that it had to be said in private.

"I guess you're wondering why I've called you out here?" Again, Hawke beat Varric to the punch.

"It had crossed my mind."

Hawke sighed. He rubbed his metal glove on his eyelids. The Champions dark skin was barely visible at night, causing Varric to focus mostly on the piece of red fabric that was tied around the neck of his armour.

"... I was wrong."

Varric raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

"I mean about Herah," he explained. "I was wrong to say what I said."

The dwarf wasn't sure how to respond. He folded his arms and looked Hawke over, but found nothing out of the ordinary with his friend.

"What's brought this on all of a sudden? You're not dying, are you?"

"What? Me? I'm too heroic to die."

"Hawke…"

"I got a letter from Merille today." Hawke cut in. The speed of Hawke delivering that bombshell was a little too quick for Varric's liking. Hawke kept his hands low and with a stray finger, found one of the stone benches in the dark. He carefully sat down on the bench before continuing. Varric was content where he was, still making out Hawke's bright red scarf.

"She told me how she was doing. She's still leading many of the elves from the Kirkwall alienage, but you know that already." Varric nodded in affirmation. "They've set up a village not too far away from Kirkwall in fact. Well, it's more of temporary settlement honestly, but she's hopeful. I believe it's roughly where her old Dalish camp was set up."

"So everything's turning up roses for Daisy?"

"Yes, well, she wrote about an incident recently."

Varric was tempted to sit down beside Hawke, but he stayed where he was so he didn't risk interrupting him. He knew Hawke was relying on momentum to tell this story, and it was something the dwarf could sympathise with very well.

"One of the elves in the settlement has been causing trouble. He takes offense to me."

"You?"

"Yeah, me. Ander's isn't the only one who gets a lot of heat for what went down in Kirkwall. I guess I should be thankful since I probably get the least share of the blame, but it's always rubbed me the wrong wa- Anyway, I'm starting to ramble."

"Hawke, you're really starting to worry me now."

"Sorry, I just…" Hawke took a breath and turned his eyes downwards. "It wasn't exactly a secret that me and Merill were more than friends. He took offence with their leader being, and I quote, a "Shemlen lover.""

Varric could understand being upset over something like this, but this wasn't exactly the first time Hawke had ever been confronted by xenophobia. There had been some snide remarks from nobles and elves alike about the pair, but Hawke simply brushed all those comments aside like they were nothing. Merill probably didn't understand half of them. So why had this comment triggered Hawke to react this way?

"How far did this guy get?" Varric asked point blank, dreading Hunter's reply.

"Not too far. Merille didn't specify but she said things eventually calmed down when most of the settlement took her side."

"Never doubted her for a second," Varric replied with a confident smile. "That's good news though, right?"

"True, but it's made me realise how much of a shithead I've been." Hawke shot up from where he stood and locked eyes with Varric. "Mother didn't approve of me and Merill, but she never tried to stop us. You know what she told me? "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." My Mother wasn't perfect, I have no delusion of that, but I'd be doing a disservice to her if I ignored those words."

"Hawke…"

"You needed my support, and I didn't give it. When I needed it from you all those years ago, you didn't hesitate for a second to lend yours. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, and I can only hope that now I can be the friend you need. You and Herah, you're good for each other. If anyone tries to get between you and says anything, I'll be right there having your back through out."

"Aw, shit." Varric could feel the teardrops reach the corners of his eyes. He covered his face, unsure of what had caused this reaction, but he had no time to process as he was picked up into a bearhug.

"I take it that you forgive me then?" Hawke chuckled. Varric felt Hunter's beard scratched against his face, and couldn't stop the laughter tumbling out his throat.

"Alright, I forgive you. Now can you put me down?" Hawke squeezed a bit more, but eventually relented and put the dwarf gently on the floor. "Not sure why you thought breaking my back would help convince me to forgive you."

"It's a common greeting in Ferelden."

"Then it's a miracle anyone in your country can stand on their own legs." Varric lightly punched Hawke in the arm.

"Right, now that's out of the way… drinks?" Hawke motioned the way they came in and towards the pub.

"Eh, in a minute," Varric said as he found the stone bench and took a seat. "I think I just need a moment."

"Alright, see you soon." Hawke made his way out of the garden in a much better mood than he entered, but just as he was about to leave, he stopped and turned to Varric. "I know what you're going to say, but once we leave tomorrow and assault the Keep, there isn't really anything keeping me here, except you. When I go, do you want to come?"

"... I cant. I-"

"Dont worry, that's all I needed to know."

Hawke left, leaving Varric with the night sky and the sudden silence surrounding him. The buzz of alcohol seemed to wear off as the dwarf suddenly became very aware of how cold it was tonight. He felt a shiver go down his spine and immediately regretted not returning with Hawke when he could of. Still, he couldn't leave now, he would look silly if he returned already.

Varric pondered why he even wanted to be alone. He should be happy, but all he felt was confused. Perhaps it was the inevitability of the whole. He had lived long enough to know when he got a good thing, a bad thing was right around the corner. Or perhaps that despite resolving his issues with Hawke, his friend would be gone very soon. Or maybe despite this matter being resolved, it would mean little if they all died at Adamant. Maybe it was all of the above, but the worst part was he just didn't know.

Varric then heard the shuffling of feet not too far away. He looked over to find two people talking he never thought he'd see together. Loghain, dressed in his full Warden armour, was talking to Morrigan. "The Witch of the Wilds" as Varric had heard her addressed before, had joined them just after the Winter Palace incident and had wasted no time in asserting herself in the matters of the Inquisition.

Loghain and Morrigan were barely speaking above a whisper. They were almost completely hidden from view, but Varric could see they were just behind a pillar on the outer edge of the garden. It was then that Varric realised that neither of the unusual pair had noticed he was there yet. He assumed that they had just walked into the garden themselves, since they clearly hadn't heard himself talking with Hawke earlier. Varric then noticed a young boy right beside Morrigan. Varric squinted but couldn't see him any better as his face was obscured in shadow.

The dwarf had little time to try and figure exactly what was happening before he noticed Morrigan's striking yellow eyes looking straight at him. He swore those unnatural optics glowed in the dark just to pierce straight through him. Loghain joined in the staring, and Varric sat still feeling powerless to do anything. The pair looked at each other, Varric could see Morrigan say something, and then she left with the little person in tow. Before Varric could do anything, Loghain quickly walked over to him.

"I didn't think anyone else would be here tonight," he gruffly said. "What brings you out here?"

"Finishing some business," Varric effortlessly replied. He felt slightly more at ease with Morrigan's gaze not upon him. "You?"

"Hmm, the same." Loghain sat down beside the dwarf. Neither said a thing, at least at first. They simply looked forward into the pitch black of the garden. "Are you thinking about the battle tomorrow?"

"I suppose," Varric answered, unsure of where this was headed.

"From what I understand, you have seen your fair share of battles before."

"Yeah, me and Bianca have been more than happy to show people her special set of skills." It was morbid, but Varric let out a chuckle as the memories went through his head. He reasoned it was better to laugh than let it haunt him for the rest of his life.

"I get the feeling though, that you and I, we'll be fighting a little harder at Adamant." Loghain never looked at Varric, he kept his worn and tired face pointed directly ahead.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you now have something to lose that means more than yourself." Loghain finally turned his face to Varric, and all the dwarf saw was pity etched on the old man's face. "As I told you before, love and war do not mix. I wish you luck, Varric."

Loghain, looking more tired than ever, stood up and simply walked away without another word. Varric was left sitting on the bench, wanting to feign ignorance, but deep down in the pit of his stomach, he had an idea of exactly what Loghain meant.

* * *

_Varric and Herah's eyes met across the hall. On his way back to his, he walked through the front door to find Herah, sitting on her throne. She was waiting for him. Her eyes never leave his, and he slowly found his feet walking towards her. As his eyes kept focused on her, he saw something he had never seen in her, except for when she was in the heat of battle. _

_He saw a fire. He saw passion, excitement and he saw a force that could not be stopped and would not be denied._

_Everything after that happened so fast. When he finally met her at the throne, she shot up and carried him back to her bedroom. The next thing he knew was being thrown onto her bed, and Herah pressing herself against him. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he realised Herah's fire had grown even more ferocious. She gently stroked his chest hair and then roughly grabbed the V of Varric's and slowly began to put strain on the fabric, threatening to tear the clothing clean off. She growled Varric's name right in his ear and then…_

… _she owned him._

Varric stirred awake. He groggily opened his eyes and released a tiny groan. He rubbed his hand around his face, unsure of how long he had been out, but the rays of sunshine on his gave him a rough idea. Despite his tired state though, he was able to immediately recognise that despite the odd pressure on his chest, his bed felt much comfier than usual.

It was at this moment that looked forward to find a white arm straddling his front body. He was lying on his back, he head engulfed in the fluffy pillow. As he looked around further, it became very clear that he was not in his room. The first sign was the impressive balcony off to to his right side, the sturdy brick walls and the priceless furniture: this was the room of a leader.

Speaking of which, Varric followed the arm to find Herah sleeping soundly by his side. In an instant, all the memories of the previous night rushed into his head, and any previous worry he had for being in a stranger's bed evaporated. In this position, you would never guess the ferocity this woman contained within her, the passion that drove her every step. You would be forgiven if you thought she was nothing more than a fair maiden from a distant land.

The dwarf found himself brushing a stray clump of hair that had fallen across her face, using the edge of his fingertips to be as delicate as possible. Varric feared Herah's heightened reflexes might cause her to awaken from the slightest touch, but she didn't stir for a second; perhaps because she knew she was in a safe place, or maybe that was just Varric romancing the scenario as he so often did.

He eyed to where his clothes had been thrown at the end of the bed. He wondered if it would be best to wake her up now, but inevitably Josephine or a guard would come in to for the start of the attack. Why not let her have this moment of peace? What they lose? Varric carefully rolled to his side and was an inch away from touching his forehead with hers. He closed his eyes, allowing the memory to stay frozen in his mind. Maybe he could sneak this into a story some day.

* * *

Everything had gone wrong. The battle of Adamant had gone reasonably well at first. Herah had taken Dorian, Cole, Hawke, Loghain and Cassandra with her into the thick of the battle. Everyone else followed Cullen's lead into taking the keep. Varric found himself working his way through the castle, giving supporting fire to a small squadron with Vivienne and Sera.

Despite the fact they were battling Grey Wardens, soldiers fabled for their peerless ability or durability, the battle was quickly turning in their favor. Varric was certain that Herah and her group had made it to the centre by now, and he was confident that she had the situation well under control.

That was until the dragon showed up.

He could remember just staring at it as the battle waged without him. Sera and Vivienne led the squadron ahead and were unaware that they had left Varric behind. As he watched it closely, he knew deep down in his heart that Herah and Hawke were caught up in the middle with the hulking monstrosity. He had seen those two do things he had only thought we were possible in stories, but they had made them reality before his eyes. He knew how strong they were, how resourceful they were, but that couldn't stop the feeling of dread that continued to rise inside him. He had even witnessed both of them take down a dragon before, but with possibility of this being an Archdemon, he knew for certain that this was something far worse than just another dragon.

The whole scene at the keep started to feel disturbingly similar. He could smell fire first, both from the dragon and presumably magic growing out of control. Then there were the embers, ash and blood that filled his nostrils with a thick smell. He could hear screaming from the dying and wounded. His adrenaline previously refused him the chance to hear this, but now, standing so very still and taking in the whole scene reminded him harshly how bloody and terrible war could be. Then he saw the flames sprout before him. Varric leapt out of the way and fired a single bolt from where the fire came from, landing the arrow into the throat of a Warden mage. He had been distracted and hadn't noticed a single enemy sneak up beside him.

Varric rushed forward, constantly changing his focus from the dragon to the way forward and back again. He wasn't even sure where he was headed, he just needed to find his friends. As he kept looking at the dragon, the more he saw the scene play out before him, and the more he risked panic taking him completely.

Then it happened. He saw Herah, Hawke, and everyone else standing on the bridge as the dragon landed before them. He could just make them out from his angle and stopped right before the entrance to the rift in the courtyard. The bridge exploded and they fell. Varric nearly dropped Bianca in sheer horror as he watched his whole life fall to their doom. Then, from seemingly out of the blue, a huge rift opened up before Herah's party and swallowed them whole. As it vanished into nothing, Varric was left slack jawed, unable to move until he was suddenly hit with a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.

He was angry, furious. He just lost everything. He still had money, a name, but he didn't have the two people most important to him. Without a word, he ran into the courtyard seeing Inquisition soldier and Warden alike fighting demons. As tempted as he was to plant a bolt into the back of an unsuspecting Warden, he wisely chose to expend his anger on the creatures pouring from the fade.

Everything was wrong. The Inquisitor was gone, Hawke was lost, there was no end to the monsters coming from the tear, and everyone was starting to lose their ground against the demons. Varric wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed, but that whole serial moment just blurred together. The only things he felt were the momentum of the arrows shooting through Bianca, and the burning hatred he had for every demon that stood before him.

Demon fell, and demon fell, and demon fell, but they didn't stop coming. Cullen had led nearly all of the Inquisition's forces into the centre to help battle them back, but the conflict seemed inevitable by this point. How long could they keep this up? When the likes of Blackwall and Iron Bull started to tire, they all knew it wouldn't be for much more. Varric didn't care though. He was focused on putting a bolt through anything that stepped out of the fade.

Then Cassandra jumped through. Varric froze in disbelief, staring straight forward as both Cole and Dorian jumped through next. They didn't waste anytime in joining the fight, but all Varric did was stare at the tear. Moments passed that felt like centuries, until finally, Loghain and Herah jumped through. Herah didn't even turn around to face the tear as she effortlessly slammed the rift shut. With demons losing their connection to the fade temporarily, they were easy pickings and in less than a minute, the rest of them fell.

Cheers erupted. Herah allowed herself a slight smile as she knew the battle was over. It disappeared as she noticed Loghain hobble slightly towards her, clutching his side. She knew he would not have lasted long against the Nightmare in his current state.

"Without the Nightmare, Corypheus loses both the Warden mages and his Demon army," Loghain said, slightly out of breath. "But in the eyes of your soldiers, their Inquisitor broke the spell with the power of the Maker."

She wasn't sure how he knew this, but deep down, she knew he was right. Loghain was wise, and if he knew about one thing more than war, he knew how people acted in war. They cling to hope and any symbol they can carry, and this would only escalate her banner to raise higher than before. Her convictions and her beliefs had been shaken by what she discovered in the fade, and right now, she didn't have time for it.

"Once they understand what really happened-" She was cut off by the old Warden.

"No, sometimes the soldiers need the legend. I learned that from Maric too many years ago." Again, she knew he was right. She bit her lip in frustration and swallowed her pride, refusing to argue, and allowing events to play out as they should.

"Inquisitor," called out a scout jogging his way towards her. He didn't have time to bow as he arrived and spelled out what had happened. "The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori Magister is unconscious but alive. Commander Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself." She nodded at him as she surveyed the scene quickly, but then a Warden stepped forward as the scout continued. "As for the Wardens, those who weren't corrupted helped us fight the demons."

"We stand ready to make up for Clarel's… tragic mistake," the Warden said as he pressed his fist against his chest in a salute.

As the whole scene played out, Varric kept his eyes firmly on Herah. She was safe, they were all safe. Among them though, he didn't notice Hawke. He could be hiding, it wouldn't be the first time, so he rushed forward straight up to his lover who noticed him centimeters away.

"Where's Hawke?" He asked, not even trying to not sound desperate for an answer.

He didn't receive an answer. Loghain turned his head away, suddenly unable to look at Varric. Herah kept her focus on him, but the steel edge in her eyes had suddenly been dulled. She looked sad, hesitant to say a thing as Varric noted she was working her jaw, but found nothing coming out. It was barely ten seconds, but he couldn't wait any longer and asked again. "Where's Hawke?"

He shook his head, his eyebrows lowered and his gaze softened as he nearly begged for an answer. He couldn't believe it, it wasn't possible, he had been to hell and back with that man, there was just no way he was gone. Finally, Herah answered the best she could.

"Hawle sacrificed his life to save us and to strike a decisive blow against Corypheus." Her voice didn't betray the sorrow she felt inside. Herah was in front of her men, her soldiers, she had to be strong in front of them, now more than ever with so much life lost.

"Well…" Varric stared at the ground. He couldn't even finish the sentence. In this moment, he wasn't sad, angry, bitter, hurt. No, he felt empty, hollow. He couldn't feel a thing except an oppressive sense of hopelessness. He couldn't look Herah in the eye, he couldn't even stand being close to anyone right now. He could hear Cassandra say something to him, but he didn't care. He quickly turned around and walked off. He kept walking and walking until he couldn't Herah making her speech. Eventually he found the camp nearly a mile away from the castle and found his tent.

He stepped inside as all the sounds of the world around him muted and he was left alone with his own dark thoughts. He laid on his side; already giving up on sleep and clasped his hands together and did something he rarely ever did. He prayed. He prayed to the Maker for Hawke and only Hawke. Somewhere, he lost exactly the context of his prayer, only that it was, and only will ever be for Hawke.

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**Again, please leave a review and visit the poll. I would really appreciate it :)**


	9. Chapter 9

This is probably the shortest chapter I've written for this story, but I cut a section out of it as it fit better for the next chapter. I'm going to start wrapping up the story now. There is gonna a minimum of 2 more chapters, and at the most probably 3 (4 depending on the new DLC.) Also just to let you all know, I am stopping the poll for the next Dragon Age story and you can see the results as the bottom of the page.

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_Daisy, this is the hardest thing I have ever written._

_I don't really know how to break this news to you. I have written this over and over again, but after so many times of writing the exact same letter, I've come to realise that there really is no way to break this delicately to you, and I can only hope you don't do anything drastic because of this._

_Hawke is dead._

_I know after all the grief you'll go through you'll want to know how, so I will try to break it to you. As you know, Hawke came to join me with the Inquisition so we could sort out the issues with the Wardens. During the final battle at their stronghold, Hawke fell…_

Varric's quill froze in place. His eyes wandered over the piece of parchment he had written on and they were not satisfied with what they saw. Varric lifted his quill and gently put it back in its ink jar. He quickly crumbled up the letter, making sure there wouldn't be a single part of the paper that wasn't wrinkled, and threw it into an ever increasing pile of other balled up letters.

Varric let out a tired sigh and leant back in his chair. He was seated in his little corner of the grand hall; his favourite spot in the entire castle. For a letter that was so personal, he knew he really should've been writing it in his own room, away from prying eyes, but he just couldn't focus there. Something about his bedroom just felt so alone, but at the same time, company was the last thing Varric wanted.

He found himself blankly staring at the roof. There were some nobles scattered about, chatting to themselves about things of little relevance to the common man. Varric had drowned them out, which was easy since they were few of them and they weren't right next to him. That's all he had been doing the last several days. He had avoided everyone on the way back to Skyhold. Once they crossed half the journey, Varric knew he would be safe enough to go ahead and returned a day before everyone else.

Herah had made no attempt to talk to him, at least, that was what Varric had told himself. In reality he had made sure to dodge her at every opportunity. It wasn't just her though, Varric had become a recluse after Hawke's demise. Cassandra, Bull, Dorian and Blackwall had all tried to give him their condolences at one point or another, but they had been brushed off, or Varric had simply managed to avoid them as well.

He wasn't completely sure why he was going to this level to distance himself from everyone else, but the sheer fact that even Cole had trouble finding Varric said a lot. All he was certain of was that he just had nothing to say about it to any of them. None of them knew Hawke like he did, none of them had bleed with Hawke, consoled Hawke, stood by Hawke, and none of them had died for him. He was being bitter. That one truth was undeniable to him, but didn't stop Varric feeling the way he did.

Taking a look at the space where the crumpled note once was, Varric's gaze turned to the top of his desk where five letters were enveloped and ready to be sent out. On each one was written a a name: Aveline, Broody, Rivaini, Blondie, and Sunshine respectively. On the far end was a sixth with the name "Choir-Boy" written on it. Varric had debated whether he should write to Sebastian after has fallout with Hawke, but as much as Varric didn't care for him, he decided it was only right he should be informed as well.

Bethany's letter had also been extremely difficult to write. He knew that she had a rocky relationship with her brother after her joining, blaming him for her predicament, but after fleeing Kirkwall the pair were seemingly inseparable again. Bethany nearly left the order entirely, but Hawke convinced to her return. Thankfully, she didn't leave straight away, as news then broke out that the Wardens were acting funny. She went away with Aveline until Hawke returned. Varric had no idea how she would react to the letter, but none of it would be good.

Even when he would inevitably finish "Daisy's" letter, he would send out the others at least a week before as they would have instructions at the bottom to keep an eye on Merrill to make sure she didn't do anything she'd regret. Mostly, he hoped Isabella would get to her first as she would have the best luck at talking her down from anything drastic, but he supposed that would be in the Maker's hands now.

Varric reached out for another slip of paper as he felt two fingers gently touch his shoulders. Almost immediately he knew who it was. It was the tiny point in her nails, the slight pressure she placed on his shoulder blades as her hands rested upon them, and there was only one person that would sneak up on him like this. He was usually pretty good at hearing her coming from a mile away, but today she had managed to get the drop on him. There was no avoiding her now.

"Hello," Herah said after a moments silence.

"Hey," Varric softly replied. They took a moment to allow the silence to creep in, neither one of them were really sure exactly what to say. Herah was determined to not let it go too far though, and said the first thing that came to her mind.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to see you." Varric remained silent, so she continued. "I've had meetings, so many meetings about what's next. I've had to make plans and help organise things and it… it all just carried me away. I'm sorry."

"I know," was all Varric said. He refused to say anything else again, so Herah reached for anything to say.

"Asking how you feel would be foolish, wouldn't it?"

"I'm guessing Cole brought you over here?" Varric asked, with no emotion in his voice. He just sounded tired.

"I didn't need Cole to tell me that you're hurting; not that he didn't anyway." Varric let out a dark chuckle. "It's written all over your face."

Suddenly, Varric shot up from his chair. Herah removed her hands from his shoulders as she jumped back slightly, unprepared for the sudden movement. Varric didn't turn to face her, but instead, he found himself walking towards the fire beside him. The logs were burning away, giving the dwarf some warmth from the cold room. He stared into the flames, almost completely motionless, and then, without any prompt or reason, he started to tell a story.

"Did I ever tell you the time Hawke was on a Merchant's Guild hit list? Hawke's uncle had got into an investment scheme with a couple of merchant caste businessmen. They took a lot of people's coin in order to arrange the import of wandering hills from the Anderfels. A delicacy, I'm told."

Varric finally turned to face Herah, and the sight was not what he expected. She looked tired. She had noticeable bags under eyes and her hair was slightly disheveled. The most noticeable thing about her was her look of concern. The sheer fact that she was expressing so much emotion so openly nearly stopped Varric in his tracks. He kept going though, he didn't want to leave this story unfinished.

"Their weird, foreign foodstuffs arrived… alive. And one of them, true to its name, wandered off in the middle of the night..."

Despite his determination, a sudden lump in his throat brought his story to a halt. Varric closed his eyes and turned his head downwards, trying to regain some composure to continue, but he then felt Herah's presence approach him. As he looked up, the Inquisitor gently wrapped an arm around Varric's side. Simply unable to find the strength to resist, he rested his head on her stomach. The embrace didn't last for long, but it was enough that Varric found something within himself that compelled him to continue. He muttered the word "shit" as she let go of him reluctantly.

"The guild… traced the shipment to Hawke's uncle, but as usual, he was so far in debt he couldn't see daylight. So they went after Hawke instead."

"Varric…" Herah whispered softly. It was just loud enough to get Varric's attention. "If this is distressing you-" Varric cut her off.

"They sent guys from the local carter to Hawke's estate one night. Five big dusters, armed to the teeth. They're about to kick down the door, when Hawke just opens it and invites them all inside." In one sentence, Varric's demeanor had changed. He had a small smile despite his watery eyes. "Leandra - Hawke's mother - made them tea, and for the next two hours, tried to get them to make small talk. They wandered out of the house in a daze. No idea what had just happened. Never came back. Hawke just had that effect on people." The bittersweet smile had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Varric found his eyes drawn to the floor again. "I always wanted to tell that one. Thanks."

He half expected her to walk away, but Herah - a woman he had known for her decisive actions - just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. The one thing she had continued to do was keep her gaze on him.

"Varric, I can't pretend to know what you are going," she said solemnly. "The closest people in my life I have lost were my parents. Normally, some would say that is worst, but I was there for them when they left this world. They died at peace and were happy. I want to relate to you so badly so I can help you through this, but I can't." Herah stepped towards Varric again and went to one knee. The dwarf met her eyes as she gently placed a hand on his cheek. "No matter what though, I will do my best to help you through this."

Varric brushed her hand away. The action caught Herah by surprise, and this time she was unable to hide how she felt. Varric rubbed the back of his head as he took a step away from her.

"I know. It's gonna take some time, but right now, I just need to be alo-"

"You blame me, don't you?"

Varric didn't answer.

"You blame me for his death."

"Like I said, I just need some time alone. I have some letters to finish. Excuse me."

He turned away from her and walked back to his desk. He didn't spare another glance as he sat down and picked up his quill again. Herah was left kneeling there for a solid minute, trying to process what had just occurred. When she noticed some of the nobles begin to stare at her, she left red faced and practically marched straight to her room.

For the rest of the day, the Inquisitor was mysteriously "unavailable." She was not present in the war room later that afternoon, the judgement of several prisoners was delayed till the next day, and not a soul could get into her room to speak to her. The day after, it seemed like nothing was out of place. She handed out her judgements, visited everyone, participated in the war room meeting; you could be forgiven for assuming that Herah was her usual regal self. She had everything under control.

On the inside, she was screaming.

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So here are the results:

**1) "Dragon Age: Walking Ghosts"** Romance/Adventure fic between the Warden and Hawke = 33% _As I promised, this will be the next story. The only downside is I have a good start for this story, I'm kind of lost at where to continue it from there. This might take a little while to get started. However, believe me when I say I fully intend to write this._

**2) "Dragon Age: A tale of four Wardens**" Dragon Age: Origins novelisation. Instead of the single Warden, there's four. HN, M, DE &amp; CD = 28% _I'm happy to see this voted on by so many. This will be a BIG project which I would need to plan out entirely before even thinking about starting. I have planned up fully up till Lothering however, and I also have scenarios for Redcliffe, the Circle of Magi and Orzammar thought out too. I hope to put my own spin on the story we all love so much._

**3) "The Champion of Andraste"** Story in which Hawke is the Inquisitor = 14% _I had more of a general concept for this. This was actually going to tie in with the "Samson the Wolf" story. It's unlikely I'll ever write this now, but never says never, right?_

**3) ****Dragon Age fic in which Anders is the Inquisitor.** I've seen in done before, but curious if anyone would like to see my take on it. = 14% _Okay, this idea wont be happening now. Originally I wanted to do this because I was following a story with the same concept, but I didn't really like some of things the guy was doing in it. However, I think I'm fine for leaving the idea now. i have plenty of my own to go through as it is._

**4) ****"Samson the Wolf."** AU story in which Samson and Cullen switch places. = 9% _This is a little disappointing, especially since I've actually started writing this out. Here's the thing, if planning "Walking Ghosts" takes too long, I may write this out on the side. I tend not to write two stories at once anymore, but I might break that rule for this and see how it goes. I will prioritise "Walking Ghosts" though._

**5) ****"Dragon Age 2: The Family Hawke."** AU novelisation of DA:2. Would probably be written after Origins anyway. = 0% _This will get written after the Origins adaption anyway so I assume that's why no one voted. Honestly, I kind of think I shouldn't have put it up._


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